Chapter Text
Armand does not age. He will never age. For the rest of his immortal life he will look the same youth he was when he was turned. All of this seems counterintuitive to the contraption he currently has strapped to his face.
Armand can tell Daniel is confused the first time he sees him wearing the light therapy mask, watches him do a double-take when he walks into their bedroom where Armand is sitting comfy in bed, playing on his iPad.
Daniel comes in tentatively, the way he always behaves when he is curious about something but doesn’t want to push. Armand knows this, doesn’t need to read his mind to tell.
“Hey baby,” he says as he climbs into bed next to Armand. “What’s this?” He taps lightly against the mask as he asks, his nails making a satisfying click against the plastic.
“It's a light therapy mask, it’s part of my skincare routine.” Armand is surprised it’s taken this long for Daniel to notice, though it makes sense. They haven’t quite gotten settled into a consistent schedule with each other since arriving in America, especially with regards to sleep. This also isn’t a daily occurrence, light therapy is a Sunday activity. It feels nice to finally have their schedules line up. He does love the feeling of falling asleep next to a warm body, especially when that body is Daniel’s.
“I was wondering what all those products were but I didn't want to snoop.”
“We live together, Daniel. And I can read your mind, though I try my best not to. You tend to think rather loudly, though, love. But you’re allowed to snoop. All my things are now yours, too.”
“So all those bottles in your bathroom cabinet?”
“Yes, those are all my skincare products. Of course, they aren’t all part of my daily routine. Most have a specific day of the week.”
“Okay, I have to ask: why? I mean, why do any of it when you’re…” he trails off.
Logically, Armand knows he doesn’t need to do any of this but he likes to do it, likes the smooth and fragrant creams he can slather on his face. He likes the oils and sprays and gels. He doesn’t know quite how to explain it, needs a second to collect his thoughts.
“It feels good.” Even saying it, he knows it’s an inadequate explanation. “The textures are soothing and I like having a routine.” Daniel hums and nods, obviously listening to what he’s saying.
“That makes sense. I guess I sorta do the same thing, it’s not like any moisturizing is going to do much anti-aging for me at my age but it’s still nice to do.” Armand feels fuzzy as he listens to Daniel continue. “When did this start? I can't imagine these types of products were around 500 years ago.”
It feels very good, exceedingly so, to have this understanding from his lover. Even more so that Daniel seems interested, wants to learn more. He smiles, knows it more from the fond look Daniel gives him than the sensation of it on his face.
“Well, I saw an infomercial about a collection of products in 2003.” He launches into the story about the progression of his fascination with skincare after ordering those initial products from his television. The meditative feeling of applying the creams bringing him back to his early time in Venice, that initial luxury after living in what felt like a permanent layer of grime during his time in the brothel. This love grew as he tried out more products, creating an impressive collection. It took a lot of trial and error before he came to his current routine. Some products had to be thrown away right after their first application, their sensation causing him to scrub at his skin until he had removed every trace of them. Anything sticky or rough was an immediate no. Then there was the frustration when his favourite products were discontinued or their formula changed with time. He currently has a collection he is proud of, though the light therapy mask had been a recent acquisition.
“And then one day I was on TikTok and I saw one of the creators using it. I wasn't sure if I would like it, or if it would even feel like anything but I wanted to try.”
“So what does it feel like to you?”
“Warm. And a little tingly but nice. I was worried the electricity would itch but it’s soothing. You can try it if you like,” he offers.
“You look so comfy right now, but maybe later. I should probably do my own routine now. I know you don’t mind, but it feels nicer kissing with freshly cleaned teeth.” He gives Armand a kiss on the forehead, just above where the mask ends, then ruffles his hair.
Armand watches him go, will follow in 3 minutes and 24 seconds when his timer to remove the mask rings. God, looking forward to the domesticity of just co-existing in the bathroom with his lover as they prepare for bed. What has my life become, he thinks fondly.