Work Text:
Daniel was a… complicated man.
With over 500 years of life, one would think that Armand had better, more apt descriptions of the boy who had found himself back in his life despite 37 years of absence. But when it came to that boy, truly a man now, words failed him. Daniel was the writer of the two, and the interviews he did for his journalism hardly bolstered a need for loving adjectives that Armand could take note of. The years between them now were a blink to Armand, a short moment in his immortal existence and yet they had dragged. Oh, how they had dragged.
In the morning, after Louis had sent himself to rest, Armand plucked out a purple button up he had nearly forgotten about from the depths of their shared closet. A bit on the nose, perhaps, maybe a bit risky with Louis' decision to toy with Daniel’s memories, the ones he had so neatly plucked and rewove into the story of Daniel's psyche. Although, Armand couldn’t deny that a small part of him, the selfish part that hated himself every day for the necessary actions he took years ago, wondered if Daniel would remember. As he walked to the study where he could hear Daniel working on his research through the years to aid in his interview, Armand briefly allowed his mind to wander.
Armand had bought the plane tickets for both Daniel and Alice of course; no one could say that he wasn’t a polite mistress. Daniel had offered a vague explanation for how he was able to afford the tickets to Alice; a bonus from an article that brought in more sales, he had said, and it seemed she wasn’t too keen on pressing that explanation. Perhaps she did not want to know the truth. Daniel spent his days with Alice and after she would go to sleep, his nights with Armand.
Despite Armand’s intimate knowledge of Paris, Daniel had insisted that he would choose a restaurant for their dinner that night. Armand followed Daniel into the restaurant and was greeted to a booth in the back where they had an excellent view out the window of the city- a living, breathing entity of both tourists and locals alike. They watched out that window as Daniel ate and Armand used his mind tricks on the waiter to believe that he had been eating as well, and when they finished, Daniel returned to the same old question that had been plaguing their relationship for decades for the last time.
Armand entered the study tentatively, watching as Daniel looked up to acknowledge him briefly and then back down to click at something on his computer.
“It was wrong of Louis to enter your memories yesterday,” Armand said steadily in greeting as he sits down in the chair catty-corner to Daniel, “You were invited here as a guest-”
“Cell phones.” Daniel interrupted, his tone sharp. He had always been stubborn, particularly so when angered or irritated.
Despite the interruption, Armand continued, “You were rude, but he crossed a line-”
“Artificial intelligence crunching improbable data-” Daniel muttered, cutting him off again.
Armand swallowed his irritation at the man. Trust in Daniel Molloy to continue to hold a grudge despite the apology being issued. “I offer my-”
“How do you hide from the Cloud?”
Armand allowed the question to hang in the air for a moment, unacknowledged. He once had been accustomed to Daniel's deflections. “Apologies on Louis’ behalf.” He said firmly as he looked up at Daniel, and for a moment he could hear the words that Daniel used to say to him all too often.
“Why am I second to him?”
“You know that you are not. The magnitude of my love for you outshines what I have for Louis-”
“Then why won’t you do it? You stay with him even though he thinks you’re boring -”
“I could ask you the same thing. Why have you stayed with Alice?”
“You know that's different! I can’t just hide like you can-”
Armand silenced his own mind, lest his expressions give away the turmoil lurking beneath the surface of the wall he had set up between himself and Daniel. “We should probably wait for him.” He said, his tone neutral and controlled.
“Probably.” Was the quiet answer that Daniel gave him. For a moment, their gazes locked, Armand saw so, so very clearly the boy he once knew those 37 years ago. How wonderful- how beautiful, that he had gotten the chance to age in the way Armand never did. Despite everything, despite the pain and regret of destroying the truest love he has had the chance to experience in these centuries of life, he would save Daniel from the torment and horror of immortality in a heartbeat.
“He’ll awaken when the sun sleeps.”
Daniel nods his head, and Armand, despite himself, despite every thought of better judgement, gave into the side of his mind that might as well be the same foolish, lovestruck boy from that moment ago, laughs. It’s not grandiose, not the larger than life laughs that would light up rooms that Daniel gave him after he gave him physical dollar bills to “call Paris” with or after Armand would deliver the news that he had yet again destroyed another one of the microwaves he had bought for Daniel. It was a small, quiet chuckle that Daniel would give after Armand looked up to make eye contact with him after feeling Daniel's gaze linger too long. A painful reminder of the boy he once risked everything for.
“Your cellphones make you slaves to your fetishes.” He cut through the tense silence to answer Daniel’s questions. Daniel picked up his pen to begin writing notes as Armand continued, “And data retrieval is primarily about profits, so I suspect no one at Amazon is trying to sell us blenders.”
There was a small moment where the wall was brought down for a second, and in just the way that Armand wondered when he chose the purple button up earlier that morning, he wondered if Daniel would pick up on the subtle hint that Armand had left for him.
He didn’t, of course.
“You kill. Nightly. ” Daniel said with a tinge of the abhorrence he had once felt that was sandwiched between wonder and then unconditional love.
“And sometimes you’ve watched that kill on the local news.” Armand replied evenly. And sometimes you’ve ordered it yourself. “You’ve never been easier to distract; you’re at the height of willful ignorance. We exploit it. This is- was- Lestats prophetic vision.”
Daniel finishes writing and puts down his pen. “Lestat de Lioncourt.” He said as he looks up at Armand.
“Yes.” Armand had to hold himself back from a sarcastic retort, a language that Daniel himself had taught him. “We were shadows crouching behind stone, prior to his transformation.”
“I’m listening. That’s my job, right?”
And so, Armand told him the story of his love affair with Lestat. It was oddly freeing to tell the story to Daniel as an interviewee without the consequences and questions that would come with telling it as a lover. Of course, he couldn’t give Daniel all of the details, the most damning truths, but he could give him a good story, and maybe that would be enough for him. Louis would be back soon, and Daniel would go back to being his interviewer, but at this moment, after all this time and all this change, Daniel is Armand’s. Just for a little while.