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It was…cute.
There was a juvenile approach to it, yes, but Armand found that he appreciated the genuineness behind it. The nervous buzzing in Daniel’s mind before he acted was warm, tingling, like something spicy touching the tip of someone’s tongue. Armand had never been treated this way before. It was so…cute.
Not that he would ever tell Daniel that. No, his poor ego wouldn’t handle that. So sensitive, this fascinating boy. Instead, Armand would play along, feign his ignorance before blushing and cooing at the appropriate moment. It made Daniel feel like a man. Like he was able to wrap Armand around his finger with the simplest move.
The worst part was he was almost right.
They had seen this film seven times already. If he were with Louis, he knew it would kill him. Poor Louis could only take seeing the same show a couple of times before needing something new. Daniel, on the other hand, seemed content to go along with Armand’s wishes. It was…strange. There must be something wrong with this fascinating boy.
As the two characters on the screen exchange stories about their various scars, both literal and figurative, Armand felt a familiar nervous buzz from Daniel’s mind. Resisting the urge to smile, Armand shifted in his seat, slouching slightly in his seat so that Daniel was sitting taller than him. So vain, this boy.
As the nervous buzzing grew louder, Daniel cleared his throat and began tapping one of his feet on the sticky theatre floor. Armand almost told him to stop, but it was too much fun watching him fidget.
Just as his resolve was about to break, a bubble of laughter growing at the base of his throat, Daniel suddenly swept his arm through the air and wrapped it around Armand’s shoulders. They were both sitting completely still, stiff even, as Armand’s eyes widened at the sudden public display of affection.
Daniel struggled to even stand too close to Armand when they were out together. The one time Armand had tried to hold his hand, Daniel had jumped out of his skin, frantically whispering that someone could have seen them and that he wasn’t really gay. Armand still wanted to roll his eyes at the memory of it, and he would have if not for the sweaty palm currently holding his shoulder.
The longer Daniel held him, the more Armand began to relax. His shoulders fell, his body leaning against Daniel’s side, and his head slowly dropping to Daniel’s shoulder. He placed his hand on Daniel’s knee, circling a patch of bare skin through a small hole in the worn fabric, as the nervous buzzing changed into a warm, proud sense of accomplishment.
Armand closed his eyes with a sigh. So cute.
They often spent time at the beach. Armand loved to watch the water. Daniel liked to kick off his shoes and walk barefoot in the sand. Many nights were spent enjoying the salty air and pointing out strange shells in the sand. Tonight was no different. They walked across the sand. Close enough that someone could tell they were together, but not so close that someone would know they were together.
Armand had never been in the closest before. There was no such thing when he was mortal, and when he was a vampire, there was no reason to hide it. What was someone going to do, beat him up? The idea alone was laughable, but for Daniel it was a very real fear.
Even knowing that, Armand couldn’t help but wish for that easy affection. He longed to feel Daniel’s strong, calloused hand in his own. It was nice. Grounding. To be intimate with someone so simply made Armand feel real. Connected to himself in a way that rarely came easily.
Armand watched as Daniel knelt on the sand and picked up a small, blue seashell. There was a crack in one corner and clumps of sand lingered on the inside. When Daniel handed it to him, Armand smiled, admired it for a moment, and placed it into his pocket. His eyes found Daniel’s and he shook his head at the playful wink Daniel sent him. He chose to ignore the slow smile drawing across his face.
Armand took another step, stopping when Daniel didn’t follow. He looked over his shoulder and stared as Daniel flexed his hands at his side before reaching out and letting his fingers brush against Armand’s.
Armand watched as Daniel slowly traced the edge of his finger, sending a shiver up Armand’s arm, before finally linking their fingers together and holding Armand’s hand loosely in his own. Their joined hands swung between them, the two standing at an awkward distance, before Daniel took another step forward.
They continued walking. Their hands joined.
Armand…didn’t understand certain things. And he didn’t like that he didn’t understand. In fact, it made him very angry.
One of things Armand didn’t understand was forehead kisses.
No sexual pleasure could possibly be achieved by kissing someone’s forehead. What was the point? Why would someone do it? How come it happened in films, and television, and books? Why?
Why, why, why?
Armand squeezed his eyes closed and took a deep breath. He stood from the small desk in the corner of the hotel and threw the book in his hand away, letting it fall to the floor with a thump. The heroine had swooned when her lover’s lips had brushed against her forehead, and Armand didn’t understand why.
No one had ever kissed his forehead. Not Louis, or Lestat, or even Marius in one of his more loving moods. Had his mother kissed his forehead when he was a child? Did he cling to her skirt until she pushed his hair away from his face and kissed his forehead? Had she even been alive when he was sent away?
Armand ran his hand down his face and sighed. He crossed the room and fell back onto the bed, staring up at the white ceiling with blank eyes, his mind swirling with questions he didn’t want to think about.
He turned his head when the bathroom door open and Daniel stepped out wearing only a large, fluffy white towel that the hotel supplied to their room. Laying his hands on his stomach, Armand watched as Daniel pushed his wet hair out of his face and greeted him with a smile. He said something, but Armand couldn’t register the words. All he could do was stare at his flushed cheeks, watching the steam from the shower inch out behind the door.
As Daniel continued to speak, Armand could only stare. He looked into his eyes and saw concern staring back at him. Armand knew he should speak, say something, but he was too tired. Too tired for words, or actions, or thoughts. So, instead, he just stared at Daniel and admired his lovely face. Lovely.
Daniel sighed, his shoulders slumping, before leaning down and kissing Armand on the forehead. His warm lips, softer than usual, were a gentle, soothing pressure that made something tight in Armand’s chest uncoil, loosen, for the first time in a long time.
The book was right. It was nice.
Stormy nights were rare in San Fransico. The thunder was loud and the lightening was bright. Blinding. It was beautiful. Armand had always liked the rain, and he loved stormy nights. They were romantic. Dramatic. Dark, but alluring.
Yes. Yes, Armand loved storms. Daniel, on the other hand, did not.
Cursing as another rumble of thunder echoed outside, Daniel shifted lower on the couch, his arms tightening around his torso as his feet bounced on the floor. He was scared. Armand could sense it. But instead of embracing that fear, being honest about it, Daniel lashed out. He was angry that he was afraid. Angry that something like the weather had this effect on him.
He swore at the noises and the lights, slammed his hand against the side of the television set when it refused to work, and treated Armand like he was invisible.
Funny.
Sitting beside him on the couch, Armand watched as Daniel’s lip began to tremble. The slight wobble of flesh quickly stopped when Daniel bit down the plump flesh, turning it red as the blood rushed below the surface. Armand licked his lips. Blood. Daniel’s blood. It was a delicacy unlike any other. A sweet, but spicy palette that tingled on the tongue.
A nearby crash of lightening had Daniel yelping, grabbing Armand’s arm and leaning into his side. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw, shaking his head until he swore and tugged Armand’s arm around his shoulders. He buried his face against Armand’s chest, his shaking body as close to Armand as possible, and held him like no one had ever held Armand before.
Like he needed him. Honest to god, needed him. It was…funny. Nice, but funny.
Jealousy was an ugly emotion that Armand was far too familiar with. In all his loves, there had been someone he shared their heart with. Someone who they could turn to when Armand became too much, or too little, or too boring. A better option while he waited in the wings for his time in the spotlight. He had never considered that that feeling, that lonely feeling, was how he was making Daniel feel.
Until tonight.
Daniel stormed out of the bar, bumping shoulders with anyone who got in his way, and kept walking even when Armand told him to stop. There was something thrilling in his disobedience. Electric. Sexy. Armand fought to keep his smile off his face. He doubted Daniel would appreciate it.
Daniel is yelling, shouting, causing a scene, and Armand watched as the anger burned inside him. His pale cheeks became red, his eyes became dark, and his jaw clenched as he gritted his teeth. He was beautiful. He ranted and raved about his jealous feelings. About accepting Louis but not agreeing to sharing Armand with anyone else. When Armand calmly explained that the gentleman at the bar was not a lover (in fact, he was intended as a meal), Daniel threw his hands in the air with a growl.
He continued to yell. He got in Armand’s face, and he yelled, and he yelled, and he yelled until tears prickled in his eyes and a whimper fell from his lips.
The gleeful feeling in Armand’s heart dwindled as he watched Daniel fight against his tears, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand despite how many times Armand had told him not to do that. Disobedient.
“Just tell me: Do you love me or not?!” Daniel sobbed as tears finally began to fall.
Armand’s eyes widened. How was this possible? He loved Daniel, worshiped him, adored him, gave him everything he could ever want. How could he question his devotion especially over someone insignificant? It was like – like –
Like Armand had never told him how he felt.
In his many centuries of existence, Armand had never denied his feelings. When in love, he announced it. Multiple times. Even…when he shouldn’t. He always, always, confessed how he felt.
Yet here was his boy, his sweet, brilliant boy, completely unaware of how he moved Armand’s heart. How he filled it with love, with joy, with a feel so unique and new that Armand didn’t know how to say it aloud.
Daniel scoffed and turned to leave, only stopping when Armand grabbed Daniel’s arm and spun him around. He caught his waist and pulled him close, looking into his eyes with what he hoped showed even a morsel of his adoration, before kissing him deeply.
He almost froze. They were outside. They were in public. People could see them. Other men could see them. He expected Daniel to push him away, to yelled at him again, but instead he felt Daniel’s hands grab the lapels of his coat and tug him even closer. Returning his kiss with even more passion and love than Armand could ever expect.
Since that night, Daniel had been more physical with Armand. He would wrap his arm around Armand’s shoulders, hold his hand when they walked in the park, and hug him whenever they first saw each other. Sometimes he would linger, the tip of his nose would nuzzle against Armand’s cheek, and just the whisper of a kiss would follow. It always left Armand with butterflies in his stomach. He hadn’t felt that way since the forties when he had first met his Louis. To think that he would feel this way again, and with this sweet boy.
Armand opened the door to the bedroom. The apartment they were staying in was new, a building owned by someone other than Louis, and Daniel had grown fond of it in the short time they had lived there. Armand called it nesting. Daniel called him an idiot. They made love on the couch.
Perfection.
Armand laid on the bed beside Daniel, wrapping one of his arms around his waist, and kissed his cheek. He waited for a moment before kissing him again, smiling as he watched Daniel’s nose twitch. Armand laughed when he grumbled under his breath, mumbling about five more minutes and being too tired to wake up, and kissed his cheek again.
Daniel whinged and rolled over in Armand’s arms. He opened one of his eyes and squinted up at Armand. His cheeks were flushed, his body warm, and there was goo drying in the corner of his eyes. He was so beautiful. Even if his breath smelled like bad eggs.
“You’re thinking about my breath again, aren’t you?” Daniel asked, his voice gruff.
“Yes, beloved,” Armand said with a dreamy smile.
Daniel snorted and the sound made Armand swoon.
“Dork.”