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Louis? Daniel’s voice is faint in his head, the mental connection wobbly but impressively clear for a fledgling. Louis doesn’t know if it’s a result of innate skill on Daniel’s part, or if it’s an inherited ability from his maker. He hopes it’s the former.
You doing okay? Louis sends back, hoping he sounds reassuring to the abandoned fledgling in his apartment.
I’m- yeah. I’m sorry, mostly. Their connection is stronger now, and Louis senses Daniel heaving a sigh. I ate the guy who brought me the blood bags. Or drank? What’s the correct terminology? He’s definitely dead.
Louis pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers and tries not to let his emotions seep into Daniel’s brain. It isn’t unexpected, he’d planned for the eventuality but regardless, Daniel Molloy has killed someone in his home; a man’s allowed to feel some type of way about that.
Not your fault, he sends back, soothing. You’ve been a vampire for less than two days, it’s not easy to resist.
When are you getting in?
Nearly four in the morning, your time. He taps the armrest impatiently. Knowing there’s a fledgling alone in his apartment is already anxiety inducing, but knowing that the fledgling vampire Daniel Molloy is alone in his apartment? That’s downright terrifying.
I’ll wait up for you, Daniel says, with a hint of his usual humour. Do vampires get jet lag? Yesterday I was out like a light as soon as the sun had fully passed the horizon - used your coffin, by the way. Hope you’re not mad about that.
Louis laughs aloud, before he imagines Daniel curled up against the rich velvet interior of his coffin and he softens. I’m not mad, but you know you can sleep on a bed, right? The apartment’s sun protected.
Oh, Daniel sounds a little embarrassed. Honestly, I thought the bed was just for fucking.
-
“Why do you have a coffin if you don’t sleep in it?” Daniel blurts as soon as Louis walks into the apartment, as if he’d been sitting on the question for several hours.
“Hello,” Louis replies, heavy on the sarcasm. “Nice to see you, Daniel.”
“Is it?”
“Yes,” Louis hopes he sounds as sincere as he feels. “It’s always nice to see you.”
“The feeling’s mutual.” Daniel finally smiles at him as he says it, a wide grin that shows off his new fangs. They’re big, Louis thinks, a little goofy looking in his crooked smile.
“I have the coffin because I got used to sleeping in one,” Louis can still sense Daniel’s curiosity, pouring off him in waves. “And for other activities.”
“So I slept in your fuckbox?” Wasted opportunity , Daniel’s mind whispers, and Louis gets a flash of an image of him pressing his nose into the fabric, his hand wrapped firmly around his cock. A fantasy, rather than a memory. He raises an eyebrow and Daniel flushes. “You might want to get out of my head, my dick hasn’t worked this well in years.”
“I’m not trying to listen,” Louis says carefully. “Your mind is very open. Can you hear me?”
“I thought you were doing that on purpose.”
Louis shakes his head. “You’ve picked up the mind gift very quickly. It might be—“
“Armand.” The name falls between them with a thud, Daniel’s mind flashing hurt-anger-grief in quick succession.
“We don’t have to talk about it.”
“It’s definitely the fastest I’ve ever been divorced,” Daniel shrugs carelessly, but there’s a bitter note to the words. Louis doesn’t know what to say. They look at each other for a long moment before Daniel gives him a mostly believable half-smile. “And he had stiff competition, my second marriage lasted less than a year.”
“Fourth time lucky?” Louis offers unthinkingly, before he realises what he’s implying. He clears his throat awkwardly and gestures down the corridor towards the kitchen. “Is there any food left?”
-
Louis observes Daniel as he chugs three blood bags in quick succession. There’s a new fragility to him, along with the new strength. He seems brittle, somehow, like the slightest pressure might find a faultline and send him shattering across the floor. It makes Louis want to protect him, nurture him.
“I can hear you watching me,” Daniel says acerbically, dripping some blood down his shirt. “I get it; you’re not the stepmaker, you’re the maker who stepped up. Should I be calling you Daddy?”
Deflecting with humour again. Louis smirks at him, swallowing his own mouthful of blood; two can play that game.
“Only if you want to,” He purrs, and watches in satisfaction as Daniel snorts blood out of his nose in surprise.
The tension abates after that, both of them relaxing into the quiet meal and the shared silence. Louis observes Daniel some more; the way his thoughts flit to-and-fro constantly, the smooth way he moves now that he isn’t in pain. Daniel watches Louis in return, sometimes intensely curious, sometimes strangely bashful about it.
Louis breathes the moment in, the dawn breaking over the horizon and casting Daniel in a warm golden glow. He feels light, despite the fledgling that’s been dropped unexpectedly into his nest.
“What are you building up to saying?” Daniel’s voice breaks through his thoughts, and Louis smiles at him.
“I regret the way it happened,” Louis touches the back of Daniel’s hand lightly as he speaks. “But I’m happy I get to keep you.”