Work Text:
And…action.
Armand sat as still as he could. He sat tall, proud in his illusion, and watched the elevator intensely. He was coming. Third floor, fourth, fifth. It had been over thirty years since he had last seen him, but he wouldn’t let it affect him. No, he was still in control. Eighth, ninth, tenth. He hated the contacts, but he needed them. They weren’t irritating, necessarily, but they were annoying, not meant to be there. Fifteenth, sixteenth, seventeenth. Stay in character. Don’t let him remember.
Penthouse.
The doors opened and Daniel Molloy stepped into Armand’s life once again. His once brown hair was now grey and white, his smooth skin aged and wrinkled, lines by his eyes and mouth, and his body was weaker but still working and changing. He was beautiful. Possibly more beautiful than ever before. Armand longed to throw himself into Daniel’s arms, to hold his boy against him, and to seal his lips in a kiss.
Armand’s hand twitched at his side. He slowly curled his fingers before uncurling again. He focused on the small movement and tried to ignore the urge to reach out and offer Daniel his hand.
Daniel was clearly tired which meant he would be irritable. This would not end well for anyone involved. Armand was certain it would fall apart in only a few days. Louis may not even be able to finish his story before it crumbles once again. Then his darling could leave, return to his apartment, and pretend that nothing had happened. The idea helped calm Armand’s nerves. Yes, Daniel would be gone soon enough and that was fine. That was absolutely fine. Armand was not upset.
Armand watched Daniel sit carefully, his hand beginning to tremble, and ached for him again. How dare such a feeble, weak disease dare to affect his boy? His beloved was strong, mentally and physically, and this ridiculous loss of nerve cells was taking that from him, forcing it from him like a cowardly thief that, if real, Armand would tear to pieces.
Oh, his sweet boy.
“Anything that can’t be verified, I send to my researcher,” Daniel ordered. His voice and tone were calm, and controlled, but silently demanded no arguments.
“No third parties,” Armand said as he stood from his chair and walked across the room, clutching the tablet in his hands tightly to ensure he didn’t do anything stupid.
“I write it. You get to see it before it goes to print,” Daniel said, ignoring Armand without even a glance. “I get the final edit,”
“That is not the agreement you signed,” Armand reminded.
“And one more thing,” Daniel said, taking off his glasses and finally – finally – looking at Armand with a cold glare, uninviting and rude. Perfect. Simply perfect. “I do my best work one on one,”
Armand’s focus faded once again as Louis and Daniel continued to speak, arguing with one another, two old men fighting for control in their shared environment. Before anything could escalate further, Armand was dismissed.
Stepping away, Armand stopped in the hall, the servants running around him and preparing everything and anything that Daniel may need, all at Armand’s request. He placed his hand over his sore chest, his weak and near-dead heart more alive than it had been in years.
Oh, Daniel.