Archive of Our Own ^beta

Vampiric slumber.

One of the many benefits of the dark gift and one of Daniel’s personal favorites. After the last several years of never passing a comfortable night, these days he wakes up every evening with joints like butter and a clear head (and most evenings, thanks to his ravishingly gorgeous bedfellow, a raging hard-on like he’s a fucking twenty-something again). This is something Daniel is pretty sure he’s never going to take for granted. For all the times Armand had tried to get him to rest back in ’73, Daniel’s finally getting some of that good shit. And the sleep is so fucking good. Especially when Armand is curled up beside him, all cozy, his nose nuzzled in against Daniel’s neck, his hands twisted in the front of the shirt Daniel sleeps in.

Because yeah, it turns out Armand is a huge cuddler. A stage-five clinger.

It shouldn’t really come as a shock to Daniel. He remembers from their past that—between bouts of life-altering, kinky sex—there was also plenty of cuddling. Although, as far as Daniel remembers, he was generally the cuddler and Armand, the cuddlee; so this cuddle instigation by Armand seems to be something unique to the new testament of their romance.

The first time it happened Daniel was surprised to say the least. It was one evening, early in his vampiric existence, as he floated somewhere in the liminal space between waking and dreaming, when suddenly he was overcome with a crushing sense of… being crushed?

His entire body was immobilized, held in a vicelike grip. It was as though something was trying to squeeze his brain out through the top of his head, like he was a giant tube of toothpaste. The air in his lungs was pushed out through his mouth, and nearly seventy years of muscle memory caused him to gasp like he was trying to suck in oxygen that he didn’t even need.

His brain was still half under, and it was struggling to catch up with his body, but something… someone was crushing him. It took him a couple of moments for his brain to come back online and realize what it was.

Long, slender—but inhumanly strong—limbs, all shrouded in silky soft pajamas, wrapped around him like tentacles, and Daniel’s immediate thought was: so, he’s gonna kill me at last.

It was an irrational thought, really. Daniel can admit that now. They’d already been though the ups and downs of their past and Daniel remembered it all. They’d reconciled. Things were good between them. They had been since Daniel was turned. But still, Daniel knew that his maker could be… not quite as metronomic as Louis would have him believe, so the idea that Armand was going to strangle Daniel to death in his sleep didn’t feel too far beyond the realms of possibility, at least in those early days.

He could barely move and, if he was honest, it was slightly triggering. Flashbacks of having his body commandeered in San Francisco.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Daniel had choked out, wiggling his shoulders to test his range of movement.

“I am cuddling you, Daniel. What do you think I am doing?” Armand sounded affronted, and yeah, maybe he had every right to be.

Daniel felt like an asshole, but also… he was really uncomfortable.

“Well, can you maybe do it a little less like a boa constrictor and a little more like… I dunno… a koala bear?”

“Koalas are arboreal herbivorous marsupials, Daniel. Koala bear is a misnomer.”

“Uh huh.”

“Also, much of the koala population are carriers of chlamydia, so do you really want me to be more like a—”

“Okay...” Daniel huffed and tapped into his fledgling strength so he could wiggle himself around in his maker’s tight embrace. “Babe, I love you, and I absolutely want you to cuddle me, but you’re gonna have to loosen your grip just a little. No one is gonna steal me from you—”

Armand looked as serious as a heart attack. “We can’t be certain of that, beloved.”

“—and… koala chlamydia? You gotta realize that’s fucking terrible pillow talk, right?”

Armand pouted a little as he contemplated it.

Despite the unhinged-ness of the scenario (or perhaps, because of the unhinged-ness of the scenario), Daniel wanted to kiss that little pout right off his lips. He would in a second.

“Fine,” Armand said, loosening his grip only slightly.

Daniel wriggled in his arms again, once more testing his movement. “That’s better.”

Daniel wanted to drift off, let the vampiric sleep take him, but it was difficult, what with Armand staring at him like that with his baby lemur eyes.

“Are you even sleeping?” Daniel asked.

“No.”

Daniel raised an eyebrow. “So, you’re just gonna watch me sleep?”

Like he hadn’t done that a million times in the past.

Armand blinked at him through the dark, his eyes turning sad and wet, and burrowing into Daniel’s cold, dead heart.

“I just wanted to hold you,” Armand said. “I’ve waited so long…”

Fuck.

How could Daniel argue with that?

So, Daniel leaned in and kissed him, holding him tighter. Then, Armand buried his face in Daniel’s chest as the vampiric slumber took Daniel under once again.

Armand had told Daniel the following night, as they traded lazy kisses back and forth in the tight, intimate space of Daniel’s coffin, that he was sorry for the previous day’s cuddle attack.

“It is my way, beloved,” he’d said with a trembling voice as he traced his fingers gently along Daniel’s lips. “I tend to hold the things that I love far too tightly. I crush them. Suffocate them.”

Daniel had no choice then but to kiss him until the tears that were threatening his eyes had all dried up. He also told him that he had full permission to cuddle him whenever he liked.

***

They’re standing in line for the theatre and Armand slides his arm inside Daniel’s jacket. Daniel revels in the touch of his maker’s hand—warmed by the blood they’ve just shared in—as it slinks around his waist and down his body. The fabric of Daniel’s shirt frustratingly separates their skin. Daniel wonders if Armand’s touch might burn a hole in it. Armand pushes his hand into the back pocket of Daniel’s jeans and gropes unapologetically at his ass. He then takes Daniel’s hand in his free one and pulls it around his shoulders like a scarf. He twines their fingers together as he nuzzles his forehead against Daniel’s temple. He whispers all sorts of dirty things in Daniel’s ear between planting sweet kisses on the skin just below it.

"You’re gonna get us thrown out before we even get in,” Daniel says, trying to ignore how tight his jeans have suddenly become.

“Perhaps that is exactly my intention, beloved,” Armand purrs, before taking Daniel’s earlobe between his teeth and biting down.

Daniel groans. He’s this close to throwing Armand over his shoulder and flying them both home. He has to think of dead puppies in order to avoid a public indecency charge.

He listens to the thoughts of the other patrons in line.

Oh my god, is that Daniel Molloy?

Jesus Christ, that kid’s gotta be a third of his age.

He really has gone off the deep end, hasn’t he.

Fuck yeah, he has! And he’s never been happier.

They don’t end up seeing the show, and Daniel thanks whatever deity will take his call for his preternatural strength, Armand’s mind fuckery, and the cloud gift.

***

Daniel’s at his desk in his office, tapping away on his computer. He’s got research notes and legal pads flung all over the place. He’s got the draft manuscript for Interview pulled up on his screen, and earbuds in as he tries to make heads or tails of the audio recordings.

Hearing the recordings in hindsight is bizarre. Listening to the early parts—the bitchy little Rashid interjections—makes him roll his eyes a little. God, his maker is a weirdo. But a beautiful weirdo. Daniel has to adjust himself when he thinks about how good he’d looked in those Rashid getups.

The parts where Louis and Armand were trying to sell him on their whole “love of my life” schtick makes him cringe (although Daniel notices that the whole “love of my life” thing only went one way).

But listening to those parts where Armand sounds weirdly fond of him… well they’ve taken on a whole new meaning now.

God, Louis really had been caught up in his own shit. How had he never questioned some of those exchanges that had passed between his husband and the old guy he’d spent the better half of the interview eye-fucking?

And then there were the soft moments. Like the time they’d spent alone together while Louis was resting. Armand being all cute about blenders? Or the whole Alice thing? Daniel had wondered at the time—as mind-fucked and confused as he’d been—why Armand of all people had been so quick to come to his rescue. To comfort him, to make him feel better, all while Louis was fucking around in his head. Daniel was pretty sure there wasn’t supposed to be a good cop in that situation. Of course, now he knows why.

And he knows why that “Alice” memory was such a sore spot.

Jesus.

Daniel pinches the bridge of his nose and rubs his fingers into his eyes, knocking crooked the reading glasses he doesn’t need (he got clear lenses put in them so he can still wear them, because Armand says they make him look distinguished).

Speak of the devil.

The door to Daniel’s office creaks open and Armand slinks into the room. He’s wearing loose black pants and one of Daniel’s old band shirts. He’s got his iPad in hand and his hair is all curly and free from product, the way Daniel thinks it looks prettiest. He pads across the carpet, his feet bare, and leans gracefully against Daniel’s desk, looking down at him like a cat waiting for its owner to move so it can climb into their lap.

There’s a long silence as Daniel waits for him to say something, but he doesn’t. He just stays perched there, staring.

“Uh... what’re you up to?” Daniel asks, taking out an earbud.

“I missed you,” Armand says simply.

Daniel should feel smothered, but instead, he’s filled with the familiar warm, gooey feeling he gets every time Armand is near him. It’s insane. If either of his ex-wives had been this clingy it would have had him tearing his hair out. But Armand practically lives in his back pocket, and he’d have it no other way.

That vampire bond, man. It’s no joke. Especially when it’s compounded by the love they shared long before they were ever fully tied together in the blood.

Daniel runs his hand up and down Armand’s thigh before giving it a little squeeze. He pushes his chair out a bit to make some room. Armand climbs into his lap, straddling him, one long leg on either side of Daniel’s hips. He drapes his body against Daniel’s, their chests flush together. He rests his chin on Daniel’s shoulder, and Daniel hears the familiar sound effects of virtual mining coming from the iPad as Armand continues playing with it behind his back.

Daniel returns to his work. It’s a little awkward, and hardly ergonomic, trying to reach the keyboard and type with his beautiful six-foot-tall creature practically purring in his lap, but he’ll be damned if he’s ever gonna ask him to get up. Before too long, Daniel’s typing with one hand, the other running mindlessly up and down Armand’s back. Every so often Daniel turns his head to plant little kisses against his maker’s curls and Armand lets out a happy little hum. Daniel thinks this is what they call parallel play and, holy shit, he never wants to do another second of work ever again without Armand draped over him like a blanket.

***

Daniel’s standing under the deliciously hot spray of the shower, allowing the water to wash away any remnants of his hunt. He closes his eyes and lets the water hit his face and run through his curls. It’s almost scalding over his skin, but he likes the sensation. He senses the glass door opening behind him and smirks. He pulls his head out from under the stream as the soft, perfect hands of his lover land on his shoulders, massaging them with his long, graceful fingers. Daniel practically melts under the touch. Armand runs his hands down Daniel’s arms as he steps in closer, pressing his front flush against Daniel’s back. When his hands reach Daniel’s, he takes them and wraps his arms around Daniel’s body, holding their joined hands over his chest. He rocks into Daniel from behind, causing Daniel’s already half-hard cock to harden the rest of the way. The press of smooth, lean muscles all along his body, the cocoon of long, slender arms holding him close, the smell of the ancient blood that made him coursing through his veins. Armand grazes his fangs along the skin of Daniel’s shoulder and Daniel feels his own fangs unsheathe a little.

“Quite the hunt tonight, lover,” he purrs, his lips brushing against the shell of Daniel’s ear. “It’s always such a pleasure watching you.”

Daniel’s head falls back, dropping against Armand’s shoulder, when his maker sucks a temporary bruise into his neck.

“Yeah?” Daniel’s voice is thick with desire.

“Yeah.”

Armand drags their joined hands down until they land on Daniel’s hips. He pulls Daniel even closer and grinds even more purposefully against him.

“Can you feel just how pleasurable, beloved?” Armand asks.

“Fuck.” Daniel replies, oh, so eloquently.

Armand releases one of Daniel’s hands so he can reach around and wrap his fingers around his length. He strokes him slowly, leisurely as he drinks from his throat and ruts against him. They come together in a haze of delirious pleasure. Armand holds Daniel for an irresponsibly long time afterwards, as water pours wastefully down the drain. Although Daniel is grateful because, despite his recent preternatural double knee reconstruction, he feels like he might just collapse.

Armand eventually releases him, but only so he can pour a sweet-smelling shampoo into the palm of his hand and wash Daniel’s hair. His lithe digits detangle Daniel’s silver curls, the soft pads of his fingers massage his scalp. Daniel moans at the sensation and by the time the conditioner is rinsed out he’s ready for round two.

***

Daniel walks into their living room after spending the last several hours working on the final chapter of the first draft of Interview. Armand is lounging on the sofa, his body draped gracefully across the cushions. He’s lying on his side, facing the television, his head resting on a big puffy pillow he must have taken off the bed. He’s drowning in a pair of grey sweatpants and an old burgundy t-shirt. Daniel recognizes both as his own. His hair is all sexy-messy and his eyes reflect the glow of the television screen.

“What are you watching?” Daniel asks.

“Bladerunner.”

Daniel chuckles. “You haven’t seen that enough times?”

“It is the new one. Bladerunner 2049,” Armand answers. “Well, it isn’t new, it came out in 2017. But I hadn’t gotten around to watching it yet. Louis didn’t like science fiction.”

Daniel ignores the pulse of righteous indignation that comment sends through his body.

“As good as the original?” Daniel asks.

“I haven’t decided yet.”

Armand shifts forward on the sofa, bringing his body closer to the edge, his eyes still on the television.

“Come, beloved,” he says, patting the vacated space behind him, just barely wide enough to fit another body.

Daniel doesn’t hesitate. He climbs over his lover and settles in behind him. He wraps his arm around Armand’s waist and pulls him close, wedging himself between the back cushions and his maker’s blood-warmed body. He tucks his chin over Armand’s shoulder so he can see the television too, and nuzzles his nose in Armand’s curls, breathing him in deep before dropping a kiss to his neck. Armand lets out a happy little sound that does things to Daniel’s heart and to his dick.

They stay like that for a long while, but Daniel isn’t really paying attention to the movie. And then Armand wiggles his pert little ass, pushing back against Daniel’s crotch, and now Daniel really isn’t paying attention to the movie. Daniel groans into Armand’s hair, and Armand chuckles and rolls onto his back. He hauls Daniel on top of him, looking up at him with his amber eyes and wrapping his arms around his neck. They make out and lazily grind on each other until long after the credits have rolled.

They don’t ever find out if Bladerunner 2049 is as good as the original.

***

Daniel turns in a little early, before the vampiric slumber truly hits him. He’s had a long fucking night. The first round of revisions for Interview came back from his editors at the Talamasca, and the shit they’ve made him take out! He spent an hour and a half having a shouting match with Raglan James, which had resulted in him losing his cool and setting his phone on fire. Armand had grabbed it out of his hand and extinguished it before his hair could catch alight. Daniel had then launched into a rant about censorship and journalistic integrity, and then Armand told him for the umpteenth time how the book was a terrible idea and he should just let it go and stop being so foolish. Then they’d had an argument which Daniel wasn’t in the mood to resolve with sex—the first they’ve had since their reconciliation—so he’d stomped off to the bedroom and climbed in his coffin alone.

Okay, so he left the lid off.

A silent invitation that he hoped would serve as a hint that maybe he didn’t want to be left alone, actually.

It works of course, and a little after 8am he hears the bedroom door click open, followed by the sound of feet padding softly across carpet. He shifts over slightly, his body making room in the confined space, even though his brain is still kind of pissed. Then he feels Armand curl in beside him. He wraps his arm around Daniel and places his hand over his heart. He squeezes Daniel to his chest and Daniel feels a shaky breath against the back of his neck.

“I’ve ordered you a new phone,” Armand says in a tiny voice. “Expedited delivery, it should be here tomorrow.”

Daniel doesn’t reply. He doesn’t want to punish Armand per se, but he doesn’t want to just roll over either.

“I’m sorry,” Armand continues. “About earlier. I still think that publishing this book is absurd and is only inviting danger to our doorstep. But what kind of maker would I be if I did not vow to protect you from danger, even if it is brought about by your own hubris?”

Daniel huffs. “You know, you really should work on your apologies.”

Daniel feels Armand breathe another shaky sigh behind him.

“If you wish to leave me, Daniel, I certainly will not blame you,” he says, his voice half broken.

The words everybody else does remain unspoken but Daniel can feel them.

Daniel’s entire body pricks up and he turns his head as far as he can while locked in Armand’s embrace. “What?”

“I know that I can be difficult…”

“Wait, hold on a second,” Daniel says. “You think I’m gonna leave you? After one fight?”

Silence from Armand.

“The shit you’ve done to me, and you think this is where I draw the line?”

Still silence.

Daniel captures the hand that Armand has pressed against his chest and entwines their fingers together, holding their joined hands over his heart.

“I’m not going anywhere. I thought we already established that.”

Daniel can feel their twin heartbeats. Armand’s beating softly in his chest, reverberating through Daniel’s body and picking up the rhythm of his own. It’s almost enough to lull him down into sleep, but the conversation isn’t over. Daniel rolls onto his back in the tight confines of the coffin and pulls Armand against him, one arm around his shoulders. Armand nuzzles his face into the crook of Daniel’s neck and wraps one of his legs around both of Daniel’s, gluing himself to his side.

Daniel still holds their joined hands over his heart.

“Babe, if we’re gonna do this thing—like really do it, like for eternity—then you’re gonna have to not freak out on me every time we have an argument.”

Armand sighs and his body trembles as Daniel runs his hand up and down the length of his arm.

“Because there are gonna be arguments,” Daniel says. “It’s inevitable, babe. You and me are a couple of assholes.”

A tiny little huff that might be a half-restrained laugh comes out of Armand, followed by a long stretch of companionable silence. So long, so companionable, that Daniel wonders if Armand has fallen asleep.

But then he speaks.

“I know that this book is going to cause you nothing but trouble. But I know that it is, for whatever reason, important to you,” he says. “I mean it, beloved. There won’t be a moment when I’m not on constant watch, ensuring that you are safe. I’ll forgo sleep if I must, so I can stand like a sentinel at your coffin every day. I’ll do whatever I need to do. I’ll rid the entire city of fledglings if I must, I’ve done it before in order to protect you. I’ll rid the entire world until there are none left but you and I.”

“Babe, you don’t need to do any of those things,” Daniel says, squeezing him tighter to his side. “I especially don’t need you committing vampire genocide to keep me safe. I’m already full of your blood. There isn’t a single vampire within smelling distance who won’t know exactly who I belong to.”

“Mmm,” Armand lets out a small hum and Daniel can hear the smirk on his face. “I suppose you are right.”

“I always am.”

Armand laughs in earnest at that one.

“Insolent,” he says, reaching up to kiss along Daniel’s jaw. “But all mine.”

Daniel feels his heart quicken and his dick stir, even as the pull of day drags him down into sleep.

“All yours.”