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Today is the day. Daniel promised. Armand also has secured separate insurances by communicating with Daniel's landlord and manipulating the schedules of the contracted plumbers to be sure the work would be completed by end-of-day.
Armand held a great amount of joy in learning of the concept of the working day and of the ‘standard’ working hours of such a thing. He can make much more professional demands with such knowledge now.
By ‘end-of-day today’, there will be a garbage disposal unit installed into Daniel’s kitchen sink. And Armand is prepared. He also has not slept in a week while these plans were in progress. Daniel has been worried. Armand does not need to read minds to know that. He did read his mind, though, of course. Daniel also believes Armand should feed more and partake in Daniel’s next experimentation with psilocybin. Armand cannot truly humour each of his boy’s silly whims, otherwise how would Armand properly observe his fascinating choices?
There is a knock at the apartment door.
Armand looks at the clock. It is ten hours fifteen and Daniel is still in bed. He should have followed his instincts and woken Daniel up with the sun. He is about to pounce on Daniel and demand he get up, dress the boy by hand himself if need be, when he looks and sees Daniel just so beautiful in the morning light filtered through the sheer robins-egg curtains Armand purchased for the windows some months ago. Oh, his beloved is too charmingly at peace to disturb.
Armand will answer the door. Armand will do it. He is out of practice at leading a project but his heart is certainly in it.
When he answers the door, it is only when he watches the faces of the two men in the hallway change, does he recall that he is only wearing a dressing gown and a pair of slippers. He keeps their comments in their skulls and directs them to the kitchen.
Daniel says that hovering over humans is 'not hospitable behaviour' and makes them uncomfortable. In the limited space of the studio apartment, Armand stands across from the humans with the countertops between them to give them the illusion of privacy. He alternates between crossing his arms and pretending to tidy the small square dining table that is endearingly littered with Daniel’s papers and work and undesirably littered with the phone numbers of ‘Charles’ and ‘Edmund’ who Daniel was interviewing about an upcoming book of sexual knowledge and customs. Armand has been displeased by Daniel having other men’s phone numbers, but very pleased to read the advance chapters they mailed for Daniel to preview.
Armand is surprised by how long the procedure is taking to complete. By the time it is noon and the heat of the day is setting in, he decides to be a gracious host and offer them a beverage. It is a thinly veiled excuse to take out his favourite blender from his dedicated cabinet in Daniel’s tiny kitchen. The joyous sound of the blender’s motor brings a smile to Armand’s face as he blends together ice and lemons and sugar. A pretty yellow slush is the result and he pours two glasses out for the workers before happily presenting it to them to drink.
He watches with delight as they sip and barely conceal their displeasure from the sour flavour and the texture of the rind and persevere for the refreshment of the icy drink under Armand’s silent threat.
“Armand.” Daniel’s voice breaks Armand’s concentration on the two men and he turns his head to see Daniel standing by the bed, obscured from the men by a decorative room divider, disheveled in hair and clothing. His eyebrows are pinched together and furrowed down. He is glaring at Armand, as though Armand has done something wrong! Daniel promised this to him.
“Yes, beloved?” Armand says, stepping towards the boy. He listens carefully to Daniel’s thoughts and he smiles.
Daniel’s eyes roam over Armand’s body, lingering on his legs which are exposed save for five inches or so covered by the drape of his dressing gown. Then to his collarbone and chest, a delicious vee of flesh on display. The silhouette of Armand’s body cinched at the waist by the silk robe’s fastener drives arousal through Daniel’s body, blood and heat centering in his groin, making him hunger, thirst, and crave for Armand’s touch. Through Daniel’s eyes, Armand can see the feminine delicacy of his frame, and it warms him to feel admired so wholly.
Armand knows what Daniel wants, he can feel it. He can see Daniel fantasizing: grabbing Armand by the waist, his grip would be mean and unrelenting, accusing Armand of harlotry, stripping him of what little clothing he has on and staking his rightful claim on Armand’s body. No one but Daniel should ever have the privilege to lay their eyes upon Armand’s beauty, the curve of his waist, the plush of his breasts, the musculature of his thighs, the delicate structure of his ankles. Not any of this. All of him belongs to Daniel alone, and it lights a fire in Daniel’s eyes as he plays his fantasy through his mind, fists clenched as he holds his composure by his fingernails.
When Armand finally steps closer to Daniel, out of the eye line of the plumbers, Daniel grabs him. One arm wrapping around his waist, the opposite hand digging into his hair. Armand is pulled tight against Daniel’s body, scalp tingling under the tight grip of his curls, and he feels so loved.
Daniel tugs on his hair and bullies his head to press his lips to Armand’s ear. His breath is hot as he whispers ruggedly. “What’re you doing prancing around like this, offering drinks to random men in our home, like a slutty housewife whose pussy her no-good husband ignores every night, huh?”
Armand swoons, belly and hole clenching around nothing, he is so empty and he wants Daniel so badly. “It was unintentional,” Armand whispers, leaning heavily into Daniel’s chest, “I will-”
Daniel cuts him off and Armand pulls away from the grip in his hair, indulging in the boy’s boldness and the sting on his scalp. “Before you do anything else, you’re gonna get yourself some decency, we’re gonna let these gentlemen finish their job, and you’re gonna burn every goddamn glimpse of your skin out of their minds, you got that?”
Armand is nodding wordlessly, shaking minutely, his hands clinging tightly to Daniel’s t-shirt. He loves to play this role. Helpless, innocent. “Yes. Yes, I promise.”
Daniel runs his fingers through Armand’s hair once and places a kiss on his forehead. “Good girl. Go on.”
The moment Armand steps around Daniel towards the closet, where Armand does have some of his own clothing stowed, he is disappointed twice. Daniel does not grope nor pinch nor slap nor caress his backside as he passes, and Armand has no other clothing items that allow him to costume himself as the housewife he is playing.
Daniel steps away to make himself known to the plumbers with his offputting charm, and Armand listens for an indulgent few seconds before proceeding to pick out some clothing for himself.
By the time Daniel returns to check on Armand’s progress, Armand has only just started buttoning up one of his preferred linen dress shirts. It is only just long enough to cover his ass though it is clear he has not yet put any other articles on. Daniel steps forward quickly to join Armand in the corridor out of view of the strangers, pressing himself against Armand’s back and wrapping his arms around to place his hands on Armand’s and stopping his work on the shirt buttons. Daniel’s dick stirs as he takes in the sight of Armand’s pretty tits and chest hair peeking out from the vee of the half-buttoned shirt. He kisses Armand’s cold neck and hums softly.
“Still half-naked, hm? Makes me think that you want someone to snatch this pussy up.” Daniel growls, grinding against Armand’s ass with his semi. “Rapebait, if I ever fucking seen it.”
Armand is so happy. “No,” he whimpers, pushing his eyebrows together, pathetically wriggling in Daniel’s mortal grip.
“Aw,” Daniel coos, like Armand is a pitiful little kitten pawing weakly at a ball of yarn. “If only you’d been a good girl and eaten when I told you to. Hm? You even ordered in snacks and didn’t touch ‘em, babe.”
Armand’s mouth falls open, taking a breath as his cheeks burn. “I was good. I was. waiting.” Daniel’s hand pushes Armand’s out of the way and gives his left tit a firm slow squeeze. Armand sighs, forgetting to protest. “I wanted you , beloved.”
“You only snack on me, baby. You need a full meal. Wouldn’t it feel so good to suck those two guys dry? You never let me see you hunt anymore.”
Daniel is being delicate for once by choosing the word ‘hunt’ rather than simply ‘eat’ because he has been paying too close attention. Armand is so easily spooked, and he can’t risk the vampire jumping out of his skin if Daniel calls him out outright.
Armand whines, a nasal little sound, as he drops his head backward onto Daniel’s shoulder. Daniel says nothing more, he just fondles the handfuls of Armand that he has, and kisses his neck and shoulder, while he waits for the vampire. This is maddening.
Before Armand can squirm out of this cruel predicament, the clattering grind of the lovely new garbage disposal sounds out from the kitchen. As Armand lifts his head from Daniel’s shoulder, the boy has the gall to bring his fondling hand up to the front of Armand’s throat. With his lips to Armand’s ear, he whispers. “Look at that, their work here is done. Go on. You earned this.”
Armand pants with his mouth open wide, fangs descending. I earned this, he thinks.
It is quick work, especially with the element of surprise. The older of the two men seems particularly scandalized by the state of Armand’s undress, and so he immobilizes the younger first, and pounces on the elder. The plush body of the man breaks the fall onto the kitchen floor tiles, so there is only a heavy thunk and a deep yelp, before Armand sinks his teeth into his jugular.
The blood is rich, heavy. The man likes steak, and red wine. He had a homosexual encounter with a peer when he was a young boy, and never again. Never again. When the pulse grows weak, Armand pulls back, and moves instinctively to grab the apprentice.
Daniel is in the room, standing by the divider, and watching avidly. His eyes are currently on the young plumber, but Armand knows the boy had watched his first kill. The boy’s eyes are wide, lips parted slightly, his penis is still partially erect in his sweatpants. His heart is pounding like a drum and his mind is filled with thoughts of what the young man’s last words might be.
“Would you like me to wake him, beloved?” Armand asks as he pulls the young man’s limp body closer to himself.
Daniel shakes his head wordlessly and Armand does not see it but he hears Daniel’s thoughts urging him to drink. Drink for Daniel. It is the least that Armand can do for his boy.
The young man may as well be a boy. He tastes of sugar. He has only ever kissed a neighbour child when he was twelve years of age and he never saw her again after that summer. He has attended multiple parties hosted by his college fraternity and, at one of them, exchanged oral sex with a pretty girl on a bed piled with strangers’ coats. Just before he is dead weight on Daniel’s kitchen floor, Armand retracts his fangs.
“Fuck, man…” Daniel sighs. He goes to his knees, just a few feet away from the mess Armand has made.
Armand feels warm and sickly. He has not drunk so much so quickly in many months, or perhaps a year. There is some blood dribbled onto his chin drying. He swipes his tongue down to try to collect it, but he knows it is futile. A mess, he is. His insides feel full, and warm. Hot. Too hot.
Daniel’s hands find Armand’s waist, bringing Armand out of his head with a start. “Don’t…” Armand begins, but cannot find more words, cannot bring himself to speak lest he risk retching and wasting the blood.
“You did so good, baby.”
Daniel’s praise settles Armand’s nerves slightly, though not enough to ease his nausea. The erection pressed against Armand’s lower back soothes him. Daniel still wants him. Daniel sees the monster that Armand is and he still wants him.
“The grout…” Armand whispers, as he sees some blood trickle out from the older man’s neck and run between the floor tiles.
“Shh, it’s alright. We can clean it after.” Daniel’s voice is so warm, reverberating through Armand as they are chest-to-back, kneeling together on the cold kitchen floor. Daniel’s hands trace from Armand’s waist up to his chest, rolling his nipples between the thumbs and forefingers. Armand moans softly, letting his head fall backward to rest upon Daniel’s shoulder.
“You’re such a beautiful monster, baby.” Daniel continues to speak as he caresses Armand’s chest and rhythmically rolls his erection against Armand’s bare backside. “I could watch you drink forever. You’re so hot when you take control of ‘em.”
Forever. Forever with Daniel. Armand has pushed that horrific shameful idea to the dark recesses of his mind ceaselessly, and yet its appeal has not lost its glow. A selfish child, he is.
In another rut of Daniel’s hips, the boy’s cock finds purchase between Armand’s arsecheeks, pushing at his dry hole. Armand moans, and clenches, and melts further into Daniel’s hold. Daniel’s knees nudge Armand’s thighs closer together before he holds his cupped hand out in front of Armand’s chin.
“Spit, little monster.” Daniel says, after a beat during which Armand silently stared at the empty beckoning hand. He spits. It is red with his breakfast, he notes, before the hand withdraws. Then he hears the sound of Daniel stroking his erection and he is held fast around his waist and his neck as Daniel’s barely slick cock fucks between his thighs.
Daniel’s hands grip him firmly, fingernails pinching halfmoons along his ribs, his shoulder. Armand’s mind is quiet, his eyes feel heavy. The boy’s penis is hot and firm as it thrusts between Armand’s soft thighs. Daniel stills for just a moment to spit between them and slick up more before resuming his pounding rhythm.
Armand can sense the heat in his belly like a distant gust of wind which he can observe imposing itself on the dunes of a sunbaked desert. Pushing and being pushed upon in turn as it approaches mile by mile to wreak havoc. The dull pinch of Daniel’s fingernails, the blunt teeth on his shoulder, the persistent friction between his thighs which might have bruised a mortal’s flesh.
Daniel is speaking again. Hushed tones, cursing. There is hot breath against Armand’s neck. Pink sweat prickles along his skin.
Daniel’s arms tighten around Armand’s waist, coiled tight like a boa, and he comes. He rocks and shakes through his orgasm and his grip loosens slowly as his ecstacy subsides. He rubs Armand’s full belly and kisses his hair.
“Fuck,” Daniel groans, “What a mess.” Armand looks down at the semen smeared between his thighs and dotting the floor in front of him. He sees his own erection, firm and dark, the purplish head peeking out from its sheath. Daniel’s hand appears, reaching around Armand’s hip with an open upward-facing palm, not yet touching, but cupping the space around Armand’s penis, as though he were protecting a lit match from a stubborn wind.
Before Daniel can get the question past his lips, Armand shoves one shoulder backward into Daniel’s chest, successfully pushing the boy off of him before rising to his feet.
“It is a mess. Go wash yourself. Then get the mop.”
Armand disposes of the bodies expertly while Daniel scrubs the grout. While burning the bodies in metal drums by the docks, Armand lingers and watches the firelight reflect off the water and the boats traverse the harbour. He sits there for just over three hours until the bodies are cinders amongst the coals and combustible detritus.
When he returns to the apartment, Daniel is lying on his back on the clean kitchen floor, limbs spread as if he were sprawled on a luxurious bed.
“Hey,” he says as Armand approaches, reaching out one hand. The boy wants to touch him. Armand steps close enough to be in range for Daniel’s hand to curl around the back of the firm calf muscle on his left leg. His ankle is anchored between Daniel’s elbow and his ribs. The boy is looking up at him with soft eyes, a sweaty brow, his lips curled around a lit cigarette. There is a beat, then Daniel brings one hand up to take the cigarette between two fingers. “We make quite the team, am I right?”
Armand tilts his head, staring down at his boy with a blank expression to disguise how puzzled Armand is by him. He crouches down, taking his right knee to the floor to keep his left leg in the comforting grip of Daniel’s warm hand, and parts his lips, tilting his chin towards Daniel’s right hand. The boy relinquishes the cigarette to Armand’s lips.
As he takes a solid inhale, Daniel speaks again. Armand knows what he is about to say.
“You could do it right here, right now. I‒ I haven’t got anything in my system. And those two guys are plenty for you to have enough in the tank to share, right? It’s perfect, baby. It’ll be perfect. You and me, forever! I can do everything I need to do as a vampire, I can do it, you know I can. Please…” Daniel gives Armand’s leg a squeeze and before adding, “I love you.”
As the tear in Daniel’s eye just crests over and drips to his cheekbone, it stops in its path. Daniel stares up unblinking and Armand smokes and holds his own shaking shoulders.
He finishes the cigarette.
He rises to his feet, gently extricating himself from Daniel’s rigid grip before stepping around Daniel’s head towards the kitchen sink. He peers into the sink drain and can see the freshly installed metal disc.
With a pulse of excitement, Armand flicks the switch that has been less-than-perfectly installed to the right-hand side of the sink. The grinding buzz roars and his eyes widen.
Armand takes the cigarette from between his lips and drops it into the drain and listens as the grind pattern changes for just two seconds before returning to its baseline. Powerful.
He turns his head, spotting the Lucky Strikes pack on the window sill and brings it into his hand. With a careful grip of it between his thumb and index finger, he feeds it into the death trap.
It makes a delightful sound as it chews through the plastic and pulp and tobacco. And then it is grinding blissfully again. After a deep breath, Armand turns off the unit.
When Daniel blinks, he is alone.