Chapter Text
“Come here, beloved,” Armand beckons him. It’s the first words either one has said to the other in nearly five hours.
Earlier this evening Daniel had asked again, in his most extravagant and emotional attempt yet. He had asked before, had begged in the beginning, until he picked up that it pissed Armand off on levels hitherto unknown in immortal creatures of the night. But the last time was years ago– ‘79, maybe?– and since then Daniel hadn’t tried to ask again, after Armand had thrown their new Canon against a wall and smashed it into a million shards of plastic and metal.
The spot, a little cafè on Rue Palatine, was perfect, the soft light from the moon sublime, the patrons not too rowdy but not quiet enough to overhear anything. Everything in place for Armand to finally acquiesce and make Daniel his companion.
Armand had said no.
Now, there’s something in the way Armand is holding himself as he calls Daniel to him. His hand tucked into the opposite shoulder, stroking slowly as if he’s caressing a wound, sets Daniel on edge. He worries like he hasn’t worried in nearly ten years.
“Daniel.” Armand’s voice is strong and powerful. “It’s time.”
“For what?” Daniel looks at him, confusion written all over his aging face. For a moment, Armand wonders which will appear first: worry-marked elevens or deep smile lines? He is grateful for the opportunity to wait and see.
“We have continued this game for too long, beloved. I see that now. You will never stop asking me for the dark gift, and I will never stop denying you. We must end this.”
“The hell does that mean, end this? Armand, this is, you know, we’re us. Ending things has never been either of our fortes. We tend to beat the horse until after it’s long gone, it’s our thing. How do you think this is going to end?”
“Daniel…”
Armand sees the second Daniel understands what he means to do, the flash of recognition on his face, followed by fear.
“Fuck me. You wouldn’t do that, boss. You won’t. You’re all bark and no bite. You won’t.”
“I must, Daniel.”
“You won’t. Not now.”
“Come closer, dearest. I promise to–”
Daniel stays put. “I love you, Armand.”
Armand sighs deeply, accustomed to this lie that he knows Daniel believes to be true. “You love an easy access to the best drug you’ve ever had. You love the chase and feeling the difference between your warmth and my coldness. You love death. You do not love me.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Daniel scoffs. “Fuck off, man. I love you, and you’re scared shitless because of it. I love death? You are death, jackass! But if you don’t want me as your ‘companion’”– Daniel pitches his voice in a reflection of Armand’s, but with an added flair meant to hurt– “then just say so. Don’t jerk me around, for the love of God. Not about this.”
“I want to be your companion, Daniel, but it is not so easy.”
“Right— How could I forget? You already have a companion. Where’s Louis tonight, Armand?”
“Do not go there,” Armand says dangerously.
He continues. “You want something you can own. And I wanted to be owned, obviously. But your marriage is a sham, you know that? Lestat, Lestat, Lestat. That’s what he wants. He doesn’t want you!”
“Enough!”
“I do– I want you, and what do I get? Cut off like a dead appendage.” Daniel can feel his father’s ire coming out, but he’s too caught up in the moment to do anything about it. “Fuck you,” he shouts. “Fuck you!”
“I am not cutting you off, Daniel. I am giving you life, a true life. And I will always be there, watching. Admiring you from afar.”
Daniel’s temper fades at this admission. “Is that what you want?” He asks, a little helpless, a little surprised. “You want me to pass you by on the street and not even glance your way? You’ll be a stranger to me. You’ll be nothing.”
Armand’s face does not falter. Neither does his resolve. When Daniel sees this, the seriousness of the situation begins to sink in, and he reverts to what he does best with Armand.
“Please,” he begs, “c’mon boss. Please. Please. I won’t ask again, I swear. I swear! I just– fuck, I don’t want to live forever, I just want to spend eternity with you, you know that, right? But if you don’t want that, I get it. If you don’t— Just don’t leave. Don’t make me leave. Don’t make me go cold turkey, please, baby.”
Daniel feels the sting in his eyes push forward. Fuck, he thinks. I am not going to cry. I’m a thirty-two year old man, I don’t lose it over shit like this.
“There is no other ‘shit’ like this, Daniel,” Armand tells him, his own face contorted in discomfort from a real, visceral pain. It shouldn’t hurt like this. If Armand had been smart, he would never have gotten so close to a mortal. But Daniel had a way about him, an undeniable presence that spurred him into devotion for a living thing, and now as a consequence Armand’s whole body ached with the impending loss.
“Stay out of my head, Armand, please.” A tear escapes his eye, and shame floods Daniel’s face. God, was there anything more pathetic than this?
“Daniel—“
“You don’t have to. You can leave, but let me remember.”
“You’ll flourish without the memory of me weighing you down. With it you will only suffer. Daniel, I— I hate to see you suffer.”
“Oh, yeah?” The caustic bite of his boy, how he adores it.
“You know what I mean.”
Armand wipes the wet line across Daniel’s cheek with his thumb, petting his cheekbone in the same way he’s done a thousand times. Daniel settles with a deep exhale, his shoulders relaxing and the final note of acceptance in his gaze.
“I will always protect you,” Armand says.
“I’ll feel safe walking into a lion’s den for a sound bite, but I won’t have any idea why.”
“Yes, my love.”
“I’ll grow old, get wrinkles. I’ll turn fifty, sixty, seventy, and I won’t remember you.”
“That is the greatest gift I can give you, though you cannot see it now.”
“I hate you.”
Armand laughs with no humor in the action at all. “That’s just like you, Daniel,” he says. “Always needing to drop one last bomb, ruining our final moment with your unkind comments.”
“I hate you more than anything in the world,” Daniel adds, and Armand understands.
Twelve years ago Armand had said those words to Daniel, when their paths had crossed for the first time after San Francisco, Armand chasing the fascinating boy and secretly reveling in it, and Daniel running across the world for his life while similarly basking in the feeling of being chased. “I hate you,” Armand had spit to a terrified, slightly turned-on twenty-one year old Daniel, “more than anything in the world.” And then Armand had kissed him.
Armand kisses him now, savoring the flavor, cutting off any more of Daniel’s snarks or pleas. Daniel returns it, opening his mouth as he always does, his arms coming to wrap around Armand’s back in a sick mirror of their first encounter, when Armand was ready to drain Daniel dry without remorse.
Armand has not needed an invitation to enter him in years; inside Daniel’s mind, he finds the amalgamation of Daniel’s memories, thoughts, and feelings tied with him, with their relationship. He looks around mentally– over there are his memories of Lisbon, the first time Armand put his mouth on Daniel. Then Pompeii ‘79, the last time Daniel had asked for the gift and Armand had refused him, angry and unused to such relentless prodding. Then the older memories, back when Armand was… what is that word Daniel had said? Oh, yes. When Armand was the boogeyman hiding under Daniel’s beds, from room to room, country to country. Armand rifles through them, all twelve years of memories, the good and the bad, then gathers them in his own mind’s arms. He holds the images in Daniel’s head softly, presses his face against them like the precious gifts they are.
In a quick move, Armand bites down on his mind and takes a chunk out of Daniel, stripping years’ worth of memories away in the same way a nurse rips a band-aid off a young child. The devotion is there in the quickness, in the desire to not prolong the pain.
A day later Daniel will wake up in New York City, with no idea how he had gotten there from Paris without remembering any of the trip and with more money in his wallet than he’d had in a long time. He will head back to his apartment to collect himself, and along the way he will pass by all the unknowns that fill the city that never sleeps. When he crosses paths with a tall, young man with dark skin and dark hair, he won’t bother to look up to notice how the boy’s eyes are a bright, gleaming orange. He will keep walking, eyes on the ground or the shops or the skyscrapers, everything else around him more fascinating than a random nobody on the street.
Although he doesn’t know it, Daniel will have died and his life will begin anew.