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“Christ, I forgot this was him,” Daniel mumbles, settling into the couch with a Scotch. The silver fox decorating their ludicrously gigantic flatscreen has stepped out of his car, heading into a disco club. He’s not sure why Armand felt Boogie Nights, of all things, was the film of choice for the evening, but Daniel’s had his fair share of random picks.
“Burt Reynolds?” Armand tilts his head, pressing his back against Daniel’s side.
“Yeah, shit. I would have done anything for that man when I was younger. If I had known he’d look like this even later in life…” he trails off, letting the taste of liquor coat his tongue. Most of the flavor is absent these days, but he can still convince himself that it’s there through scent alone. “I got fuckin old, didn’t I?”
“What makes you say that?” Armand asks. There isn’t a strong sense of self-pity in Daniel’s voice, but Armand still turns to put his chin on Daniel’s shoulder.
“Just, y’know, look at this guy. Back in the day, I would have been falling over myself trying to get into his pants, and now I’ve probably got almost 10 years on him in this role.” He contemplates pulling up IMDb to confirm, but decides to save himself any additional gray hairs.
“And does that ruin his appeal for you? You still have quite a penchant for older men,” Armand chuckles, running a hand through Daniel’s curls.
“A bit, yeah. When I was younger, it’d be a highlight of the week to be hit on by a sleazebag like that. I’d could bet on getting my ass spoiled if he took me home,” Daniel muses, recalling how intoxicating it felt to seek out the divorcees, the unhappily wed, the playboys and empty-nesters alike. He loved their snide remarks, the way they smelled of smoke and sweat, and how their hands would explore him while they danced. There were some scarier encounters, sure, but he now fondly remembers the lonely graying men that’d treat him to foreign beers and all-American fast food in their condos before fucking him senseless.
“Oh, I’m quite familiar,” Armand says with a short nod.
“Yeah? I thought you and Louis always went for the–” he starts, thinking of his stupid, gangly self multiplied by a few hundred..
“Daniel.” Armand huffs. His orange eyes feel like they’re almost burning holes into Daniel’s skin.
“...right. Shit, I didn’t even think about that. But it wasn’t like I was trying that hard to get into your pants, was I? I could have been a lot more heavy-handed,” Daniel says. Truth be told, he sometimes wishes he could have gone full perv in the penthouse. Especially knowing the type of shit Armand can get into now, it probably would have worked (even if it cost him his life).
“You could have been, yes. But I didn’t need you to be. Remember my Rashid?” Armand asks. It’s frightening how such a simple question can make the residual heat in Daniel’s body from his last meal go straight up to his cheeks. Armand pauses the movie, moving to straddle his lap. He leans in to whisper into his ear, his voice equally playful and calculating. “Remember the filthy things you wanted him to do?”
Daniel groans as he feels Armand’s weight pressing into his crotch. He can barely remember some of the things he thought about the facade of a boy. The physical sensation of hours spent masturbating guiltily into high-end sheets stuck around more in his mind. “It’s been a while, baby,” he starts, the brief hitch of Armand’s breath giving him a smug little grin. “Why don’t you paint me a picture?”
The rest of the night is spent with the television stuck endlessly on its neon purple city screensaver, long abandoned by the two entangled on the couch.
It’s another week before Armand reminds him of their generational divide. He’s scowling into Daniel’s half (well, more of a sixth) of the closet as they prepare to leave for a date night. His fingers brush against a button-up suitable for most occasions, but his mind is clearly elsewhere.
“I never saw you in the dagger-collared shirts,” he murmurs.
“You wouldn’t have.” Daniel shakes his head. “I was a broke kid, remember? My shit was mostly secondhand. You got me in some ascots, but I never really wore too many suits.”
“But you liked the men that dressed that way, yes?” His tone doesn’t sound jealous, Daniel notes, more so taking inventory of his responses. With a turn of his heel, he steps back over to where Daniel sits at the edge of their bed, each hand carrying several hangers.
“Yeah, sure. Sometimes a guy would come in– well, his cologne would enter before him– he’d wear sunglasses indoors and have his shirt all opened up, you know the type.” The stacks of clothes are promptly tossed on the mattress beside him, and Daniel wonders how long they’ll spend playing dress up.
“I wish I were more familiar,” Armand replies, fingers working open the buttons of his Henley shirt.
“Oh yeah? You wanna see my old ass go all Tom Selleck and be my sweet little prize for the night?”
Armand’s pupils blow in response, and Daniel half-expects him to start purring. He’ll take that as a yes. Thank god it’s starting to get warmer out.
Luckily for him, it’s a moderate summer evening when Daniel returns from a quick publisher meeting to a quiet home. Expecting to poke his head into the bedroom and find Armand deep into Clash of Clans, he instead finds their mattress half-covered with various articles of clothing and shopping bags. Even the bed itself has been turned down, the familiar sheets replaced with wavy orange-brown patterns.
As he rifles through the new goods– a pack of cigs, some old cologne, necklaces, silk shirts, tight pants, big amber glasses– a note flutters out from underneath an ascot. The cursive ink lists an address and the words ‘Do your worst.’. Tonight’s game is laid out before him, clear as day, and all he has to do is play along. He’s just glad that he wasn’t gone for long enough for Armand to install shag carpeting.
The outfit itself comes together easily, despite the variety of options at his disposal. He’s got a perfectly cut light brown leather coat to go with the shirt that stays tantalizingly unbuttoned to his sternum. ‘I bet he had to beat out some artsy college kid on Depop for these,’ he thinks while shimmying into pants that leave little to the imagination. His ass hasn’t been this hugged since the late 80s. After he’s successfully fastened himself in, he swears, realizing that he could have gone for a shower and shave.
Except, knowing Armand…he hazards a quick whiff of his underarms and a hand rubbing at his jaw to determine he’s making the right move by abstaining.
Scent truly can kick his memory into gear, he notes as he continues freshening up. The cologne borders on atrocious, but it’s like being slapped in the face with memories of dive bars and late nights spent on anything he could get in his mouth. He lights up a cigarette while fastening the various accessories. It’s strange, taking up smoking again as an immortal. It became an on-and-off thing as he had more and more friends quitting circa-y2k (shit, even that was ages ago), but he began craving it again once his health started to decline. Nowadays, the only reason he rarely picks up a pack is on the principle of them being disgustingly expensive.
Looking in the mirror is a sight to behold. He saw this dude across the bar decades ago. Maybe he even scored a night with him. Daniel decides then and there that their next movie night should be Silence of the Lambs. He checks his ass out in the full length reflection, mumbling a: “Would you fuck me? I’d fuck me. I’d fuck me hard” as he blows out smoke.
He goes to plug in the address to his phone, rolls his eyes at the thought of Armand calling him “anachronistic”, and calls up a cab. Fuck it, let Armand get one last surprise over on him for the location. While he waits, he attempts to spruce up the place a little. Armand’s obsession with programmable LEDs may have originally been annoying, but being able to make the rooms a dingy warm yellow really sells it.
The ride is a good fifteen minutes uptown. It’s only slightly awkward as he makes small talk with the driver, mentally begging the man not to question the getup. After a brief drink from the cabbie, he’s dropped off on the block of some trendy, quaint little stores still open late on a Friday night. A quick glance at the note takes him to a record store. Most of the sections seem to be secondhand, and he’s thankfully not the only person above fifty in the establishment.
It takes several aisles, but he sets his sight on– well, a young man. Bearing a brown leather satchel slung over the shoulder of a denim jacket, the kid looks like he’s stepped right off of a vintage campus brochure, someone Daniel would have sat next to in the few lectures he ever attended. He’s scanning through the tracklist on an ABBA album while fiddling with a hunter green neckerchief when Daniel approaches him, clearing his throat. The boy startles just enough for him to see a flash of wide brown eyes.
“Am I in your way, mister?” He asks, gently placing the record into a basket. His hand comes up to tuck his hair behind his ear, the curls brushed out into looser, fluffy waves. Everything from the outfit to the way he holds his body is serving to weaken Daniel’s composure. He wants- he needs to ruin this boy.
“Just a tad. Looking for Bowie, you?” He asks, watching the boy step to the side to let him peruse the stacks. Truth be told, he can barely think of any music from the past century while looking in his direction.
“Oh, a little of everything. I wanted a Carpenters album, but they’re out,” the charming young man sighs, thumbing through his small stack of purchases. “This is more than enough for now, though.”
“The Carpenters?” Daniel scoffs. “Kid, you know you’re big enough for real music, right? Get something with a little edge to it; that pretty face could use it.”
“There’s something wrong with my face?” he squints. “What does that have to do with my music, sir?” Even with the feigned innocence, there’s a sparkle in his eyes that looks like pure trouble.
“Nothing wrong with your face. I’m sure you know you’re handsome. You just listen to bands like you’ve got your parents watching over your shoulder. Shit, are you even old enough to drink yet?” The question is a little dangerous: play it wrong, and he’ll offend him. Play it right, and– he sees the briefest spark of lust in his expression, the corner of his lips curling up– mission successful.
“What would you have me listening to instead, then?” He outstretches his arms, handing the basket over. Daniel notes that his question was left unanswered. “I’ll let you put me on to any kind of music…if it’s paid for.”
“Oh, that’s how it is?” Daniel gives him a sly laugh. He would have pulled the same move a lifetime ago. “At least give me a name, then. I gotta know who I’m broadening the horizons of.”
“It’s Armand, mister. And whom should I be thanking?” he asks with an outstretched hand.
Daniel begins with a shake, then pulls it up for a kiss across his fingers. “There, since you talk like a damn butler. It’s Daniel Molloy.”
Armand crosses his arms loosely at his chest, raising a brow. “Forgive me, do you work in music? Should I know you?”
The urge to stroke his ego and craft an elevated persona nearly overtakes him, but he brushes it off…mostly. “You’ve probably read some of my work in the papers. Writing about the newest hits is just part of the deal, you know? Shit, I had to get a stereo console custom built to fully appreciate the albums they send my way.”
It’s charming, the way Armand lights up as if he weren’t the one to design it for their living room. “I’ve been trying to save up for one for ages,” he says, leading Daniel further down the aisles.
With a casual tone, Daniel attempts to seal his ticket into the young man’s pants. “Alright, let’s do this: I’ll grab you a couple of good albums, and you can listen to them at my place. I might send you back home with a few of mine. Sound like a deal?” Daniel offers.
There’s a slight wavering in Armand’s voice as he asks, “Are you sure? It’s getting late, I wouldn’t want to impose…”
“I’ll get you a cab home after. No pressure, yeah?” He turns his palms up to him, voice smooth. Truth be told, he’s fighting the urge to spoil it all by peppering in a “groovy”.
“Right on,” Armand agrees, trailing along.
There’s a high chance that the employees of the record store have been charmed. Or, at least, that’s what Daniel hopes. Either way, their cashier pays no mind to the age-discrepant couple styled in outfits from half a century’s past. They seem more eager to close up shop than anything, scanning the basket full of vinyls with a weary expression. Miraculously, the duo ends up without any duplicates to their growing collection back home, though he lets Armand sweet-talk him into several wildcard purchases.
Daniel presents his credit card, earning a coy “Thank you, Mr. Molloy,” that riles him up more than he’d like to admit.
Hailing a cab home is easy enough. It’s bar o’clock on the weekend, and the two slide into the back as Daniel gives the driver his address. In a tight space, it’s easier to feel the presence of Armand’s body next to his, to smell the light scent of aftershave and something that’s almost exactly like ‘Gee, your hair smells terrific’ shampoo. The heat radiating off his body is exquisite, something he’s only capable of within the first few hours after a meal. Daniel could eat him alive like this. He’s going to eat him alive.
“Is everything alright, mister?” Armand asks, and he realizes he’s been caught staring.
“Mhm, nothing to worry your pretty head about. And Daniel’s just fine, you know…” he says, his hand reaching over to grab Armand’s thigh. “Danny, if you want to be really good friends.”
“Oh.” Armand’s body goes stiff, teeth worrying at his lower lip. His voice sounds meek, eyes pointedly looking anywhere but in his direction. “If that’s what you’d like, Daniel.”
“I’d like to hear a lot more than that from you, sweetheart,” Daniel murmurs, his fingers trailing up the fabric of his pants until his hand cups around Armand’s crotch. Armand is slightly stiff already, and Daniel watches his face tense up in an attempt to stifle any stray noises.
“Daniel, that’s a little–” Armand cuts himself off, making eye contact with the cabbie through the rearview mirror. Daniel turns his gaze to the driver as well, watching his irises cloud with a hazy orange hue. Without missing a beat, Armand returns to “n-not here, please.”
“Don’t worry, we’re almost home, baby. I won’t have to torture you for too much longer. Get over here,” he responds in a low voice. In a flash, he grasps onto Armand, pulling him into his lap. With the boy’s back flush against his torso, he spreads his thighs with one hand, the other rubbing up to pinch an already hard nipple through the soft knit fabric.
It’s bittersweet when the cab reaches their apartment complex. Daniel throws a few bills into the driver's lap as Armand steps out of the car, imitating the unstable walk of a newborn fawn. He could get the kid drunk, he thinks, loose and liquored up and falling onto his couch. He could get him high and giggly, thoughts clouded as he gets fucked. If he had any coke lying around, he’d have him do a line or two, lie back, and watch the boy become wide-eyed and overeager. It’s nostalgic, in a way.
As they make the journey to the elevator, Armand follows a few paces behind him. It’s silent on the journey upwards, until Armand interrupts the ambient hum of the machinery with a, “Did you truly want to show me your records, mister?”
The ding announcing their arrival to his floor prevents Daniel from pulling another stunt, but he still answers, “A man can want several things at once, can’t he?”
It’s one hell of a struggle not to pounce on Armand the second the door gets locked behind them. Daniel makes it a point to show him around, claiming credit for all of the decor that Armand selected. Ever the gentleman, he even pours them both a glass of wine before opening up the record player.
“Who are we starting with tonight?” Armand asks, sitting beside a crate of extra vinyls.
Daniel scoffs, “Bowie for sure. You’re half a dozen albums behind on him alone.”. He sets their drinks down on an end table beside a plush leather couch before setting the record onto the turntable and letting it spin.
Armand crosses the room, picking up one of the glasses. Daniel even notes that he visibly examines the drink, swirling around the red liquid and squinting into it. It’s certainly a smarter move than he ever thought to do in his youth.
“It’s port,” Daniel says. “Figured that’d be more your speed, kid.”
Even though his muscles don’t carry anywhere near the same aches and pains as they did a year ago, the old-man noises are still permanently etched into his body. As he settles into the cushions, a deep groan escapes him. Armand is still stationed several steps away, tipping the liquid into his mouth. He’s stood almost statue-still, made of marble, as he attempts to gauge his next move.
Daniel parts his legs ever so slightly, patting his thigh to get his attention. “You can park it right here, angel. Get yourself nice and comfy.”
With only a slight raise of his brows, Armand takes him up on the suggestion, stepping over towards him. Daniel doesn’t expect him to sit facing him, though, and an unexpected grin creeps across his face.
“There you are. How’s the wine?” he asks. They haven’t cracked open anything like this in a while. He’s hardly a wine drinker himself, and Armand usually opts for something much more savory. Back in the day, Daniel used to get scolded for having a sweet tooth that’d run his blood sugar distastefully high. Tonight, though, he has no complaints about the flavor.
“It’s very sweet, Danny,” Armand giggles. Getting hold of his playful side is something Daniel always prides himself on. Sure, he loves having a cold, calculating killer in his bed, but watching the poised mask melt off of him is a handsome prize.
“Oh yeah? Let me try.” Daniel pulls Armand forward by the silk ascot, brushing their lips together. It’s messy, a bit stiff, Armand’s lips parting slightly off-center. He persists, reaching up to grab his chin and keep it steady, pushing his tongue forward. Armand allows it, his jaw dropping to allow him to lick into his mouth. Once he’s received a fair sample of the young man’s spit, he pulls back, chuckling at the awestruck look on Armand’s face. “Delicious.”
At a loss for words, Armand swallows down a hefty sip from his glass, placing it aside as he swallows. He’s back on Daniel’s lips in a heartbeat, slinging his arms around his neck as he leans forward. Daniel draws a weak whine out of him as he sucks his tongue, feeling nails dig into the back of his jacket.
Daniel’s hand snakes up to Armand’s crotch, feeling the stiffness of his dick straining through the denim. Armand’s hips buck up into his palm, and yet he pulls away, unable to meet his gaze this close up. “Are you going to go easy on me?” he asks.
“Oh, honey, don’t tell me you’ve never done this before,” Daniel murmurs as he leans back in, lips brushing against Armand’s ear. Please, tell me you haven’t, he thinks. Tell me I'd be your first, let me ruin you, let me be the only one to get my hands on you.
Armand shakes his head, the dark waves falling in front of his face. He can barely speak, rolling his hips down onto Daniel’s thigh, chasing the friction against his hard cock. It’s strange, Daniel thinks as he watches him move. There’s always a point when the more visible cracks in their personas for the night begin to smooth over. Whether Armand is his sixties housewife, his Rashid, his student, whether he’s Armand’s pet, his sugar Daddy, his little fledgling – there’s a moment where the real world melts away, leaving just the two of them.
Tonight, Armand’s a guest in his home, an eager (if naive) young man that he’s been allowed to use. He won’t be too cruel, but he certainly won’t shy away from taking what he needs and deserves.
“Why don’t you tell me what you want to try, baby? Let your old man treat you right,” his hands grab at Armand’s hips to still him. “I can’t call all the shots here. You’ll make me feel like a nasty old dog.”
“And what if I prefer that?” Armand asks, electing to open up Daniel’s shirt the rest of the way. His breath catches as he takes in the salt and pepper expanse of hair coating Daniel’s chest, fingertips dragging through the wiry curls.
“Then you’re just as bad as me, kid. You may be new to this, but you can still be a sick little pervert.” Daniel cuts off any protest by meeting Armand’s lips with his own, forcing his tongue back between his lips. Armand’s body melts into his arms with a breathy moan. When they part, Daniel breaks the trail of spit between them by licking at Armand’s lower lip.
Armand begins to undress him slowly, almost delicately, fingers ghosting across every new inch of exposed skin. His head hits Daniel’s collarbone once he’s successfully rid him of the shirt, breathing in deeply. Daniel feels the mask slip for a moment, picking up on a low purr of “You didn’t shower…”
There’s no hiding how much it spurs them on. Daniel drags him down onto the couch, pulling him onto his lap. Armand is worse for wear, shuddering as he lies atop his chest.
“Don’t be shy, come take care of Daddy,” Daniel says, propping an arm behind his head. It’s a bit of a gamble breaking out the title so soon, but Armand is visibly receptive, squirming in his lap.
No matter how many times they venture into this particular fetish, Daniel’s sensitivity frequently fights to get the best of him. He twitches and stifles back laughter as Armand gets his mouth on him, suppressing the urge to push him away. Small, light kisses pepper across his chest, though he can just barely feel Armand’s tongue slipping out when he reaches each nipple. His hands brace themselves on either side of his torso as he moves himself up, over, up to the thick tuft of hair beneath Daniel’s arm.
“Good boy, get in there,” Daniel beckons, gasping as he feels his face nestle into the skin.
Armand takes in his scent once more, sighing softly. His lips trace their way up the curve, followed by a broad swipe of his tongue. Daniel keeps his palm cupped against Armand’s ass, squeezing it as he grinds against his bulge. For a while, he brings his arm down and lets Armand rest there, rocking against him. After he seems to have satisfied his curiosity, he looks up, big brown pupils shining in the low light. “Are you going to fuck me?”
Daniel snickers at the bluntness. “So impatient, huh? I remember being a young buck like you. You’re gonna have to take some time with me, get me all primed for that hole of yours. Could you come give Daddy a kiss for now?” He pops open the fly on his trousers, pushing himself to sit back up.
When Armand crawls off of him and silently steps away, there’s a brief flash of concern that Daniel’s managed to offend him, to ruin the game. Instead, though, he moves to flip over the record in the player, resetting the needle with a silent nod of approval as the other side of the vinyl begins to ring out through the speakers. He kneels between his thighs seconds later, bowing his head to let Daniel run his fingers through the dark locks.
As he continues to open up Daniel’s pants, he smirks down at the dark briefs already made damp with precum. The fabric is cut to frame his bulge generously, with a subtle sheen that has Armand stating the obvious. “You’re eager tonight as well, mister.”
Daniel snorts, his dick twitching as he feels a tongue press flat against his crotch, dragging its way up to his waistband. “Sue me. Sometimes you go out looking for pussy, and end up with a pretty young man just begging for it instead.”
Armand halts, brow furrowed. “And was I begging for it?”
“You will be,” Daniel shoots him a wink.
It’s fun watching Armand get a little indignant. It’s probably a bit risky to do so with his teeth so close to Daniel’s dick, but he missed the huffiness that he used to get from Rashid. In any event, he’s certain he’ll be begging for Armand's forgiveness during their next session. Daniel reaches for his side table, grabbing a cigar box beside the drinks. Louis and Lestat had mailed them recently, part of a gift set for agreeing to report on the tour. For the past week or two, they’d been sitting untouched. Tonight, though, he decides that he’s exactly the kind of guy who smokes while being blown.
Case in point, Armand removes his cock from his briefs with a slight edge of annoyance once Daniel lights the cigar, tonguing the tip in a move that reads ‘pay attention to me’. He’s only half hard, which feels even more degrading, making Armand mouth at him to gain any semblance of a response. He’s been willing his dick to be soft the entire night, a welcome surprise. It’s not uncommon for him to require a little more time, a lot more action for him to reach complete hardness. It was originally frustrating beyond belief, as he assumed the Gift would resolve his more private age-related issues. Armand has made this much easier to accept; he seems almost enthralled when Daniel’s on the softer end, as he can claim all the credit for getting him rock solid.
The acting skills of Armand are almost too convincing tonight. There’s very little sensation being delivered to his dick as the kid knelt before him treats it like a foreign object. Daniel has him stick his tongue out and taps his head against the soft pink flesh, smearing precum across it. He has half a mind to try to choke him with the length as he pushes Armand’s lips further down his shaft.
“C’mon, sweetie, it’s not gonna hurt you,” he sighs, puffing at the cigar. “Ah, more tongue, less teeth.”
Eventually, Daniel is worked up to full hardness, waving at Armand to take a breather. He lifts his hips to push the pants down to his ankles, slouching at the edge of the sofa. He puts up a finger after a moment of thought, pausing to take his shoes and pants clean off. The kid squints at him, trying to gauge his next direction.
“Do you still want my mouth?” Armand asks.
A smirk pulls at the side of Daniel’s mouth, flashing him some shiny white teeth. “I’m not done using it yet. There’s more for you to love down there, baby,” he says, cupping his balls with his free hand. “If you get even further than that, if you taste it all, I’ll do something real special for you.”
It’s a hard sell for a novice. Armand’s face twists up in a grimace. “You really…like that?”
“I love making pretty things like you do it. Humor me.” He cocks a leg up onto the chaise extension of the couch, giving him more access.
The brief furrowing of Armand’s brows as he leans in is a surefire tell that Daniel will be paying for this later. Still, he’s more than generous as he laves his tongue across Daniel’s balls, delicately cupping them as he takes one into his mouth. Daniel groans softly, reaching a hand down to run his fingers through Armand’s hair. “Mmm, I bet you could fit them both…ah, perfect, just like that. Feel how full they are, honey? That’s all yours.”
After releasing them from his mouth, Armand licks at the soft skin beneath his balls. He gives only a slight huff when he reaches to grab Daniel’s ass, spreading him open with his thumbs. When he looks up, Daniel locks eyes with him and kisses the air before taking the cigar back into his mouth.
The angle doesn’t make it easy for Armand at all, his nose shoving directly into Daniel’s balls. Daniel only half-heartedly helps the matter, adjusting them to one side of Armand’s face while lazily scratching them. Armand’s tongue just barely has enough room to make contact with his hole, teasing at the cleft of his ass instead. Daniel’s about to make a snide comment to try harder when Armand picks up his leg at the thigh, pushing it up towards his stomach. He ends up resting his foot on Armand’s shoulder as he’s put on display.
He starts tentatively, licking a small stripe upwards. Daniel can feel him barely making contact with the skin, his lips hardly grazing the rim. Deep brown eyes meet his own, awaiting approval. “We’ll be here all night at this rate,” Daniel says, digging his heel in. “You know how to kiss, just kiss it.”
From what Daniel can feel, Armand takes it a bit too literally. His tongue darts out almost politely, pressing against his hole for moments at a time. Daniel drops his hand between his legs, pressing the back of Armand’s head. “If I sat on your face, would I get a little more enthusiasm out of you?”
It’s impressive, being able to pick up on someone’s tone from the sound of them spitting alone. Armand draws back to coat his hole with saliva before leaning back in, pressing his tongue inside. Aw, Daniel thinks. He’s getting frustrated. It’s a sign he’s doing something right. Armand loves variations of this game: the rambunctious youth secretly gunning for approval. It’s just as fun for Daniel to make him earn it.
“That’s better, baby. Use that tongue and fuck it.” He slowly works through his cigar as Armand services him, blowing rings of smoke into the air.
Once he’s taken his fill of pleasure, Daniel gently pushes Armand’s head back. His entire lower face is wet with spit, though he’s quick to wipe his lips off with the back of his hand.
“Not bad,” Daniel says, resting the half-used cigar in the ashtray and grasping the bottle of wine adjacent to him. “Want more?”
“Please,” Armand replies a bit too quickly. Sure, the kid’s a novice, but he could at least try a little harder to enjoy it, Daniel thinks.
Instead of refilling his glass, Daniel crooks a finger and beckons Armand to sit up higher, bringing the mouth of the bottle to his lips. It’s hypnotizing watching him swallow, the muscles in his throat flexing as he drinks down another glass’s worth. Once he seems to be accustomed to the flow of liquid, Daniel’s hand falters ever so slightly, sending rivulets of the wine down Armand’s clothed chest.
“Ah–” Armand pulls back, cringing as he evaluates the damage. The fabric of the shirt is a light cream, now sodden with wine down the center. His lap is only slightly less damaged, with a deep red splotch soaking into the front of his bellbottoms. It only serves to emphasize the bulge already present, framing the hard cock that’s uncomfortably wedged against his left thigh.
“Oh honey,” Daniel coos, “it’s fine, we’ll get them to the cleaners. C’mere, I’ll take care of it.” He pulls Armand up gently, pressing kisses across his body as he takes off each layer of clothing. Once he’s clad in only tight patterned briefs, Daniel admires the treat before him. “Pretty thing, aren’t you? I think I’ve teased you enough, let’s see what you’ve got for me.”
Armand elects to peel off the briefs himself, stepping out of them and tossing the pair at Daniel’s face with a flourish. “Might as well keep them, mister.”
Though he knows it’s completely out of character to reveal himself as anything preternatural, Daniel thinks he can get away with bending the rules just a tad. In a heartbeat, he’s got Armand manhandled, his body slung over his shoulder as he carries him towards the bedroom. The boy laughs, kicking his legs as Daniel grips onto his thighs. Much to his chagrin, he decided to file down his nails for the night, but he still presses his fingertips into the skin nearly hard enough to bruise.
Armand is tossed onto the bed hard enough for him to bounce slightly, the springs creaking as he lands. He splays himself out in the center of the bed, teeth catching his lower lip.
“Bear with me, kid. I don’t want to hurt you too bad.” Daniel says, opening up his nightstand. A bottle of lube hits the mattress beside Armand, half-empty with a slightly slick exterior.
“No rubber?” he asks, fidgeting with the bottle in his hands. Daniel can practically see the fire in his eyes flickering behind the contacts.
“Not unless you’ve got a cunt somewhere that I’m missing,” he says, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips. “And even then…who’s to say I wouldn’t knock you right up?”
Armand shudders, and there it is. His lips open, jaw flexing in an expression Daniel knows all too well. He’s fighting against his fangs that so desperately want out, fangs that need to sink into Daniel’s neck. It’s a good thing Armand’s not a vampire tonight, isn’t it? He parts his thighs in anticipation of Daniel crawling atop him, but instead, Daniel pulls away, rounding the mattress to look through the second nightstand.
“Now, I’m a man of my word. You treated me earlier, and I’m going to spoil you plenty,” he says, digging through the bottom drawer. Daniel did have to Google a few things to make sure his final scheme would work out. Thankfully, his vague memories of hearing hushed whispers about the “personal massager” from girls in the 70s held up. He presses the cord of a classic vibrating wand into the wall, holding it up towards Armand, who doesn’t appear to know exactly what’s being presented to him.
“Alright…” Daniel says, eyes darting around the mattress as he weighs out his options. “Let’s have you get on top of me, kneel over my chest. I’ll get you nice and spread open for my cock, how does that sound?” Daniel settles onto the bed beside him, carding a hand through his hair.
“Please, mister.” Armand swings a leg over him, crawling up to brace himself against the headboard.
“This was a smart move on my part. I’ve got a nice view of that pretty cock right now. You get so nice and wet when you’re horny, don’t you, baby? Let’s see if I can make it worse.”
When Daniel shoves two lubed fingers into Armand’s ass, it isn’t an easy glide. His body goes rigid, prompting Daniel to apply a little more pressure. He abandons his attempt to spread him open quickly, taking the time to rub against his prostate instead. Armand’s dick jumps at the sensation, face going slack.
“Oh… ”
“Did I find your little spot, hon? Give me more, let me get in there,” he murmurs, flexing his wrist to push deeper inside.
The wet squelching of lube in Armand’s hole would typically indicate to Daniel that he’s used far too much, but tonight he’s opting to leave Armand feeling wet and needy once his fingers are removed.
Once he’s able to work his fingers in and out of Armand easily, he flicks the switch on the vibrator, watching his eyes go wide. He opts to tease him with it first, dragging it up the side of his stomach and eliciting a soft giggle. Armand’s noises quickly turn to cut-off gasps as he taps it gently against his nipples, hardening them up into two small peaks.
When the vibrator finally reaches Armand’s dick, Daniel wishes he had at least one extra pair of arms. He presses it to the tip of Armand’s cock and the kid nearly falls off of him, thrashing slightly to turn himself away from it. Daniel doesn’t relent, running the toy up the underside of his length.
“Ah, it’s so much…” Armand whines, hips jerking as Daniel returns to circling it around the head of his dick. “I can’t, you’ll make me–”
Daniel switches the wand off, chuckling as Armand catches his breath. He’s leaking a gorgeous strand of precum all the way down to Daniel’s chest beneath him. As soon as Daniel sees him get a hold of himself, he presses another finger into Armand’s asshole.
Click! – Armand cries out again, pleading his name as he ruts against the toy. It’s a jumbled mess, saying it’s too sensitive and then asking for more.
“Is it really so bad? I could have been a lot meaner to you, angel, you’re getting special treatment for being so gorgeous. Should I have spent all night cleaning you out first? Sometimes I make boys like you take a whole fist before they can get at my dick, is that what you want?”
Armand hiccups through a moan, shaking his head no. Even still, his filed-down nails dig into the meat of his shoulder in a way that seems to say “next time…”
“I’ll even be generous and let you cum right now. Young things like you can bounce back fast, I’ll fuck another out of you. Once you finish, you’re gonna bend over and spread your ass open for me, alright?”
Armand nods wordlessly, thighs trembling as the toy stays right on his tip, covering his slit. His lip quivers when Daniel massages the pads of his fingers against his prostate, and Daniel watches him blink back pink tears.
“Daniel, Danny, I need to–” The force of his own orgasm interrupts him, moans ripping out of his throat as Daniel rubs the toy just under the head of his cock. Once his dick stops leaking he flinches, overstimulated, begging “please, I-I’ll–” in pained whimper.
Before Armand can try to move away, Daniel takes his cock into his mouth, cleaning it off before extending the favor to his crotch and the toy he’s left coated with cum. He lets him loose with a shove to his hip, snapping his fingers and pointing down to the mattress. Armand positions himself beautifully, fingers splayed across the curves of his ass. Daniel leans in behind him, pressing kisses to each cheek. With the tip of his thumb, he pulls Armand’s hole open wider, opening him up before spitting the mouthful of cum directly into it.
There’s a bitten-back sound from Armand muffled into the sheets, equal parts disgusted and aroused. “What?” Daniel asks. “You’ll need all the lube you can get for this, baby.” Holding a tight grip on Armand’s hips, he presses inside. He takes it agonizingly slow for them both, letting out a deep groan of pleasure. “There we go. How does it feel, taking a man’s dick?”
“It’s so much…” Armand grits out, a fist tangling into the sheet as he’s filled further.
“I don’t think that counts as an answer, does it? Does it hurt? Does it feel good, getting fucked up the ass?” Daniel bottoms out, skin pressing against the soft flesh of Armand’s ass.
“It does,” Armand says, nodding. “Feels like you’re going to split me in half. It’s…I like it.”
“Good boy. An ass like yours was made to be filled.” He punctuates his point by bringing a hand down for a quick slap, watching the skin jiggle.
For a while, the two get lost in the rhythm, the loud slaps and whiny moans filling the room. Armand nearly screams when Daniel angles himself towards his prostate and apologizes, moving to cover his mouth. He repeats the apology when Daniel pulls his cock out and flips him onto his back.
Armand stares up at him with wet, glassy eyes, his chest heaving as he attempts to catch his breath. It takes an absurd amount of strength for Daniel not to sink his teeth into him. “Is something wrong?” Armand asks.
“We’re gonna do this the old-fashioned way. If you’re gonna sound like that, I need to see your face while you take it.”
He grabs Armand by the thighs, sliding him across the sheets to come closer to his hips. It’s quick work pressing his dick back into him, pushing in every inch as Armand releases a punched-out noise beneath him. Without a word, Daniel slings one leg over his shoulder and kisses down the length of his calf, down his ankle and foot before licking a stripe up the sole. Armand gasps softly beneath him, attempting to squirm away as he wraps his lips around a couple of his toes. After pulling off, he releases a cool breath over the spit-soaked skin, a hand pinning Armand’s hips down as he writhes beneath him.
“I should have known,” Armand laughs, toes curling. “You’re such a filthy old pervert, of course you’d like them.”
Daniel’s gaze goes dark, cocking his head as he thrusts into him. “I’ll pull out right fuckin’ now and make you suck me off instead,” he growls, watching Armand’s eyes roll back in pleasure. “Is that dirty enough for you? How about a thank you, Daddy?”
The slurred response he hears is barely more than one word, but he’s pretty sure he hears ‘Daddy’ at the end of it. He accepts the gratitude, fucking Armand deep into the mattress. It’s a gorgeous sight. With every thrust, Armand shakes from his tits down to his cock.
“It’s so…” Armand trails off, mouth agape as he lays a hand over his lower stomach.
“It’ll be even better when I empty my balls inside you. I’ll shoot my load so deep into your ass that you’ll stay marked up as mine.” Daniel can feel himself drawing past the point of no return. He’s been aroused all night, and his stamina has reached its breaking point.
“I want to feel it, fuck me full,” Armand begs beneath him.
There’s an attempt on Daniel’s behalf to speak, to growl out more filth to get Armand riled up. It’s rendered nearly impossible as he starts to cum. He dips his head to capture Armand in a kiss, tangling their tongues together as he makes good on his word.
“Fuck,” he breathes as he pulls back. “Your turn. I want to see you make a mess of yourself when I hit your g-spot.” A firmer pillow is nestled under Armand’s hips, the pause giving Daniel the briefest moment to wonder if the term was coined before the nineties. Sue him, he’s delirious, and Armand doesn’t appear to have any complaints.
Desperate and almost whimpering, Armand makes no secret of how close he is as Daniel continues fucking him. “Christ, already?” Daniel teases. “Can’t hold it any longer?”
Armand shakes his head, “I need more, don’t stop,”
“Do you need to touch yourself, baby? Come on, cum on my cock.” Though he knows Armand is more than capable of finishing hands-free, it’s a gorgeous sight watching him take his cock into his fist. His other hand sneaks up to grab one of his tits, fingers tugging on his nipple and–
Some nights, Daniel watches Armand shake through an orgasm and fears he’ll set their bed aflame. Tonight is such an event, and he kicks himself mentally for not being more proactive in keeping an extinguisher in the damn room.
It appears the mattress will live to see another day once Armand comes down. Streaks of his release have spattered up his stomach, one rogue shot landing between his tits. His hands fall to their sides, and he coughs, giving Daniel a half-hearted blink to acknowledge that he still resides on the same plane as him. When Daniel pulls out, Armand is left dripping, letting out a contented sigh as it sticks to his skin.
As Daniel stands from their bed, quickly stepping away into their ensuite bathroom and returning with a warm, wet rag, Armand is silent. He follows his movement with his eyes, moving to allow Daniel to clean him up. Daniel presses soft kisses on his forehead, watching a smile slowly form. These transitions back into life get awkward for them both, at times. Daniel once felt naked without a collar for days after a session, and he can see it in Armand’s eyes now, as if he’s asking, ‘Am I a vampire yet?’
“Alright, what else do you need?” Daniel asks, his voice gentle. A limp hand points at the nightstand, then back to Armand’s eyes. “On it.” He grabs a plastic contact case from the drawer, setting it back down once Armand’s irises have returned to a deep orange. The covers are stripped for another light comforter, and Daniel is pulled beneath it.
It’s a bit early to rest, but these 5 A.M. sunrises have already started taking their toll on Daniel’s energy. He’s more than content to turn their lights off and let Armand curl into his side, wrapping an arm around his back. Given how warm he still is, still damp with sweat, it’s a bit of a shock to feel Armand reaching for his other wrist. Still, he holds it up to his lips, murmuring, “Go ahead, whatever you need.”
Armand drinks his fill, only several small pulls taken more for the sensation than need. He licks the incisions shut, then adjusts to rest his face at the arch where Daniel’s chest meets his shoulder. As soon as Daniel hears Armand take a deep breath in, he laughs. “Real subtle, babe.”
“Your cologne is awful,” Armand says, his lips brushing against the skin as his eyes flutter shut.
“You picked it out,” Daniel yawns, scratching at the hair on his chest.
“I know.”
“Does my payback for all of this start tomorrow? I think my schedule’s pretty open.” It’s hard to avoid his mind racing with everything he could be subjected to. God knows he wouldn’t mind Armand flipping some of this filth right back at him.
“We’ll see. An old man needs his beauty sleep, no? Get some rest,” Armand replies, his voice already drifting miles away.
“You got it, hon.”