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The yelling had been going on for hours now, and Armand wasn’t sure when it would end, or even if it would. Armand wanted to scream, to yell, but the anger had vanished. He was just so tired. Perhaps that was why he could see the figure in the corner of his eye, waltzing into the room with the same boyish charm as before, his eyes bright and alive as he took in the scene in front of him.
He laughed as he jumped down the last step and circled their small group, stopping to stand next to Daniel, his eyes fascinated and transfixed before he looked to Armand with a cocky smirk and a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“Bad news, boss, is that I think you're losing,” Other Daniel said before pointing his fingers at Daniel with a snap. “Good news is that I look pretty good as an old guy,”
Armand resisted a smile. So vain his boy was, but when one was as lovely as him, he supposed they deserved their ego.
Other Daniel gave a low whistle as he looked between Louis and Daniel, listening to them argue back and forth, neither really paying attention to what the other was saying.
“Pretty messed up, huh,” Other Daniel said. “You try and do the right thing, but it comes back to bite you in the ass. Although, I have to say that I don’t agree with you wiping my memories,” Other Daniel shrugged. “But I am pretty biased,”
He threw himself onto the couch next to his older self, throwing his arm over the back. They could have been father and son, not a before and after. It was strange. Armand had never expected to see these two versions of his beloved together, and now that it was happening, he was too preoccupied with his own anxiety to enjoy the sight.
“Don’t get any ideas,” Other Daniel said, wagging his finger at Armand. “You keep those pervy thoughts to yourself, mister,” He winked.
Armand bit his lip to fight back another smile. Oh, how Daniel loved to make him smile. Some nights would be spent in his arms, listening to awful joke after awful joke, until his sides burned in a gleeful agony. He would curl up against Daniel’s chest, running his fingers through his coarse chest hair, and tell him how wonderful he was, how much he adored him, all to see those freckled cheeks burn bright. He would do it now, too, if he didn’t know better. This was not his Daniel. Past or present. This was a memory of Daniel. A perfected mirage. Beautiful, but unreal.
Armand closed his eyes and when he opened them again, Other Daniel was gone.
“Not so fast,” A voice whispered against his ear.
Armand almost jumped at the smooth voice in his ear, the feel of his breath against his neck. Armand leaned towards the heat that radiated from the hallucination’s body. He tried to remind himself, to remember, that this was not real. This would not change anything. But how he wished it would.
Strong hands curled along his shoulders, squeezing his muscles tightly, rolling them beneath the pads of their thumbs. Armand shivered as the hands continued to work his body. He longed to reach back and touch his boy, illusion or not, but he forced his hands down. Forced his body to remain still as the desire grew inside him, tempting him, calling to him, and just as he was about to reach his breaking point, just as those familiar soft lips touched his skin, his mind was brought back to reality.
“Right, Armand?” Louis yelled, turning on him for encouragement.
Armand looked up, his eyes snapping open again, as he looked between the two men, his eyes lingering on Daniel. The real Daniel. The one that would not touch him, speak to him, or even look at him. No, no, the real Daniel did not want him, did not wish to tempt him, but he did move him. He did call to him.
And Armand did love him.