Chapter Text
After the ruckus of welcoming the most notable vampires of the vampiric race into his home, dealing with the Voice and installing Lestat as the new "Prince" of their tribe, as Benji called it, Armand took the opportunity, when his guests had themselves retired, to collect himself in solitude in the quiet indoor pool. He sat at the edge with his pants rolled up so they wouldn't get wet as he enjoyed the feeling of warm water lapping around his legs.
His peace and quiet was soon disturbed, however, when careful but deliberate footsteps behind him announced to Armand a new arrival.
"Hello Daniel," Armand said before the intruder could so much as utter a greeting.
With his back still to him, Armand couldn't be sure, but he would’ve wagered his entire fortune that Daniel, at this very moment, was pouting. He could draw the exact shape of it from memory. "How'd you know it was me?" he asked. "You can’t see inside my head anymore."
"No, but I can still feel you," Armand lied. In truth, there was no way in which Daniel’s aura distinguished him from any other blood drinker's. But how could he not be aware of Daniel? How could his eyes not seek him out even in a crowded room, how could he explain to anyone the restraint it took to keep his feet from leading him right to his once beloved, no matter how near or far he was? Yes, he was always aware of Daniel.
Daniel moved to sit down next to him, one leg tucked under the other which he sank into warm water without bothering with his pants, and this time, Armand did glance over to watch for himself what his face was doing. The way he was chewing on his lower lip. "Yeah, I think I can feel you too."
Armand exhaled. He had to close his eyes against the fierce longing taking shape in his gut, spreading through his entire being like blood pumping through veins.
It was not possible. Did Daniel not know this?
The eerie quiet offered no comfort now, and Armand wished Daniel had found him somewhere else. Outside in the garden, perhaps, where the chirping of crickets might drown out the turmoil in his mind, the erratic beating of his heart. Here, the peaceful tranquility of the indoor pool provided no such distractions. Over the years spent apart, he'd forgotten the effects of Daniel’s presence, and now it was all too much at once.
"Did you mean it, back there?" Daniel asked suddenly. "Do you really think that we're all evil and doomed?"
Armand held back a weary sigh. "We're blood-drinkers, Daniel."
"And so?"
"And so, through consuming life we are committing sin just to stay, ourselves, alive."
"If we need to commit sin to live, if we are made that way, cannot these sins be excused? No, scratch that." Waving a hand in front of his face, he interrupted himself before Armand could open his mouth for a counter argument. "Forgiveness is a whole other topic. But how can you honestly believe to be amoral if you're the one who beats yourself up most of all over every little transgression you think you have committed?"
Armand chewed this over. He did not have an immediate answer. "Did you mean it?" he asked instead. "What you said about beauty and love?"
"Of course." The fierceness in his eyes softened a fraction as he looked at Armand. A tilt of the head towards Armand alluded to a familiarity he thought long lost. "You most of all."
His eyes were still so open and bright. The years had not dulled their shine yet, though now Armand could make out specks of golden brown in the sea of hazel-green. Amadeo's shade of brown as it used to look in broad daylight.
The sudden proximity to Daniel felt overwhelming. A sudden urge to run overcame Armand. The urge to put as many miles between them as possible. The urge to eliminate every millimeter that separated them until they melted into one.
He wished to be alone.
He wished Daniel would never leave again.
Ignorant to his inner turmoil, Daniel kicked his feet, both of them over the edge now, splashing water this and that way. "You got a nice place here," he commented. "Very homey. It's, uh. Different from…"
"Night Island?" Armand nodded. "Yes, quite. That was the point."
From the corners of his eyes, Armand saw Daniel nod as well, watched his throat work. "You settled down, huh?"
In truth, Armand had never thought so much about it in those terms. But he had Benji and Sybelle here, and Louis too, for a while now. People who came to him and stayed on their own volition. "I suppose I did."
When the silence made to linger between them, Armand turned his head to see Daniel staring straight ahead, shoulders drawn up tightly with tension. For some reason he could not name, it bothered Armand to see him like this, as though he could not speak his mind around his maker. "And you," Armand said, to fill the unbearable silence. "You've grown into yourself."
Daniel drew his shoulders up higher before letting them drop again in a facsimile of a shrug. "I guess."
An unguarded, pleased smile came over Armand's face. "I always knew you would."
Daniel looked up at him then. They were roughly the same height but he looked tiny in this moment, and so so young. "Really?"
Armand's hand twitched where it rested on the edge of the pool. He folded his hands together in his lap to keep himself from reaching out. "Yes," he said truthfully. "You were made for the Gift, I could see that from the start. That was never the issue." If he could unburden Daniel now, he would like to think he would do so in a heartbeat. But he was a selfish creature above all, wasn't he? And the world was richer with Daniel in it, even when his presence wasn’t for Armand to enjoy. From the bottom of his heart he still believed that.
Daniel sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. His eyes glistened. "Right." He cleared his throat to get rid of the roughness of his voice. "So." He shifted a bit in his seat, which made his feet splash in the water again and resulted in the distance between them diminishing until just a hand's breadth kept their thighs from touching. "What do you think of all this? I mean, this is just the second time the whole vampire community gathered together to brainstorm about ways to fight the end of the world, but it's kind of weird that it happened twice in my lifetime, don't you think?"
Baby's second apocalypse, Armand thought to himself and had to fight down a smile despite himself. What a very Daniel thought to have. Daniel often had that effect, to make light of abysmal events and to lift Armand's spirits through his lightheartedness. "They're not all of us. And we're not really a community," he said at length. "At least not yet. Though Benji would like to think so." A surge of pride overcame him at the thought of Benji, who always had his heart at the right place.
"He's a good one," Daniel affirmed his thoughts. "I mean we barely talked, but he seems cool."
For once without restraint, Armand smiled. "He is."
"And you're avoiding my question." Daniel seemed to gather back some of his sometimes rather overbearing confidence because one of his insufferable smirks spread on his face. "Same old dance."
Something tugged at Armand's heart at the words. Something that was sharp and stung but felt better-sweet at the same time. "Same old dance."
He sensed more than saw Daniel's back straighten, like he was cautiously dragging himself onto more equal footing. "So do you think Lestat will be a good leader? Or is it just that no one else wants the fucking job?"
In a way he hoped was surreptitious, Armand ground his teeth. "I think, despite his flaws – of which there are many – with the right guidance he might be able to perform satisfactorily," he said with all the grace he could muster. "And nobody else fucking wants the job."
Daniel laughed heartily, threw his head back with the sentiment, and it made Armand's gaze fall on the curve of his throat. The veins there. The blood flowing through them. Armand swallowed dryly.
"For what it's worth, I think you'd make a great leader too. Though I get that you don't want to. I'm…"
When he hesitated, Armand gestured for him to continue.
"I'm actually kind of glad you didn't offer."
Curious. "Why?"
Daniel lifted his legs to wiggle his toes over the pool water's surface. "Dunno," he said. "Just sounds kind of boring, you know. Stuck to one place – but not the way you are now, by your own choice. Not like a safe haven to return to when you need a breather, that one in France seems like it could become more like a cage. Bound by your responsibilities."
Fondness overcame Armand. His Daniel never did like his responsibilities. "Perish the thought."
Daniel laughed again. "See? They'd just stifle your humor, I think. Suffocate you. Maybe Lestat is the right person for the job because he'd never let it come that far."
"Yes," Armand said, an uneasy feeling rising in his gut, but it was small and unobtrusive enough that he could manage to ignore it. "He is a rebel always."
"Well, so are you," Daniel challenged. "You'll be a good guidance for Lestat. You and Louis. He'll listen to you."
"What makes you say that?"
"Which part?" Daniel inclined his head, and suddenly it was impossible to ignore the memories, all the reasons why Armand fell in love with this boy before he'd even known it was love. The open way he looked at even, or especially, the world's darkest parts, his boundless curiosity, the way his presence often felt like a vortex drawing you deeper and deeper into itself until there was no going back unchanged. And the way he looked so impossibly human even when he was anything but. "That you'll be a good influence or that he'll listen to you?"
In truth, Armand had forgotten the question. "Either."
"Well, you're one of his oldest friends, for one thing." Ah yes, Lestat. They were talking about Lestat. "He values your opinion. And you led a whole coven for two hundred years, so you have the most experience with leadership out of probably all of us. You won't take any of his shit, you and Louis both. And you’re good at staying alive."
Without meaning to, Armand snorted.
"You are."
Armand clenched and unclenched his hand. "How many of the books have you read?"
Daniel stared at him, long and so deep and probing that Armand feared he was staring straight into his soul. Then, like morning mist lifting with a wisp of wind, the moment was gone and Daniel shrugged, averted his gaze. "Not many. Mostly I reread the old ones."
"Hmm."
"The classics."
"Good." Armand hoped the relief wasn’t audible in his voice. "That's– They're good."
"Yeah." Daniel brushed his fingers over his chin – a habit from the time when he used to have a bit of a stubble there. "Been listening to Benji's radio show. Good stuff."
It still hit Armand unawares, the way his chest swelled with something like paternal pride whenever someone complimented Benji or Sybelle. He fought the urge to say thank you – the compliment wasn’t for him. "He wanted to bring all of us together."
Daniel lifted his shoulders to a shrug that seemed to say and here we are. "Long overdue if you ask me."
Armand turned to him more fully. Really looked at him for possibly the first time tonight, or ever since he arrived at Trinity Gate. "Have you been well, Daniel?"
Saying nothing for a moment, Daniel sucked his lower lip into his mouth once more. "Sure." Finally, he met Armand’s eyes – unreadable. It was frustrating. Even without seeing inside his head, Armand used to be able to read his boy like an open book, and now? "How've you been, then?"
Armand rubbed his thumb against the knuckles of his forefinger. Where to start? "Same as you, I suppose."
"Right." Daniel bopped his head into a nod. "It's nice, that you have a pool. Reminds me of–"
"Night Island."
"Night Island." Daniel smiled a secretive smile Armand almost felt privy to – almost. "Bit less swanky though."
"That was the idea."
"I like it."
Yes. Armand knew he would.
Silence stretched out between them again but this time it was a more comfortable one. Armand could see himself traipsing in this silence easily with no clear goal in mind. He did as Daniel had earlier and kicked his legs softly in the water. Quietly, they watched the moonlight shining through the little windows dance across the little waves their movements created. Armand tried to remember when last it had been so easy between them. When they could sit together like this without hurling accusations at each other. Or when they could hurl accusations at each other, yet be confident in the knowledge that they would be back in each other's arms once the smoke had blown off. Had he ever felt secure in the knowledge? Armand couldn't remember.
"What do you think will happen now?"
Armand sighed. "I don’t know." So many uncertainties, even with their new resolve to be a tribe, as one, like Benji said. Armand didn’t do well with uncertainty.
Uncertainty was like quicksand.
Uncertainty was Daniel showing up at his home after all this time, chatting with him as though they were old friends. It unmoored Armand.
"You hate not knowing."
Armand's head shot around to see Daniel's eyes twinkling with mirth, but there was a fondness around the curve of his mouth. Armand itched to trace it with his fingers. "Yes," Armand said, and hated how wispy his voice sounded. He cleared his throat, fought the urge to bump Daniel's shoulder with his. "And you thrill at it."
Daniel's hand twitched up, but he let it drop halfway, only to lift it again to tuck an errant strand of hair behind his ear. "Yeah. What a– huh." Whatever he meant to say, he cut himself off before it could slip out, and huffed a laugh. "Well, you know what I think."
"We are the puppet masters of our own future."
Daniel snapped a finger at him. "Exactly."
Oh, Daniel, Armand thought, overcome with the sudden warmth that spread in his cold dead heart. Still so passionate, still so idealistic despite his morbid outlook on the world. You haven't changed.
"You changed," Daniel said suddenly. "I mean, not really, but you look different. Lighter. You smile more. I wonder…" Once again he did not finish the thought. Instead, he let out a single, hollow-sounding laugh again.
Armand raised a questioning eyebrow. "You wonder what?"
Daniel's throat worked again, and it seemed too deliberate, the way he stilled his feet in the water. They both waited until the water stilled completely, without external movement stirring it now.
"If this was the last night of your life," Daniel mused, out of nowhere, "what would you do?"
Armand turned his head, and his breath caught. Somehow, he hadn't been so aware of how close they were sitting until this very moment, and the shortage of air between them made it difficult to think. "But it's not," he breathed. "The world isn’t ending." Lestat had made sure of that.
"Humor me." There were wrinkles around Daniel’s eyes, proof of the better times of his life, and suddenly the unbearable thought came to Armand that one day, these wrinkles might be smoothed out by time until Daniel’s face was perfect marble. Armand feared that day, would miss his fledgling's imperfections, and yet he wanted to see it happen. The change, his transformation. Wanted them to have that time, all the possibilities in the world. "If the world would end tomorrow," Daniel said, as though reciting a cheesy song's verse. "Right this moment, what would you do?"
Armand glanced down at Daniel’s lips. The fingers of his right hand dug into his palm on their own accord, though he was careful not to draw blood. "Something I would come to regret."
"You wouldn’t have to regret," Daniel said softly. Armand watched his lips move around the words, let his husky voice wash over him like warm water. "That's the point. The world's ending, remember? No time for regrets."
Armand’s breath stuttered on an exhale. "What would you do?"
"I asked you first."
Tilting his head in a mirror of Daniel’s earlier gesture, Armand’s lips twitched up into a barely-there smile. "Humor me."
With much more intensity than before, Daniel looked him in the eyes as if searching for something. Did he find what he was looking for? He must have, because suddenly he bent forward and his hand surged up, burying his fingers in the hair that curled at the back of Armand’s head to tug him closer…
And he pressed his lips to Armand’s.
In some distant part of his mind, Armand had been anticipating this. Still it knocked his breath right out of him.
Though Daniel's lips were cold, the kiss felt like the first rays of sunshine filling him to the core with warmth after years of cold and darkness. His hands clenched to fists at his sides with the effort to not reach out even as he kissed back. If he touched Daniel now, he feared he would not find the strength to let go. His heart was a jungle drum right in his throat.
His fledgling possessed a far superior mental strength, of course, or maybe he just didn’t feel the same pull between them. Desolation and exaltation filled him in equal measure as Daniel was the first to move away. Far too soon. I missed you. Armand's ears must have been playing a trick on him because for a second he could swear he'd heard his own thoughts spoken aloud. But in the absence of Daniel's mouth against his, Armand pressed his lips together tightly, too tightly to let any of his deepest thoughts slip out.
It had been a chaste kiss, considering. Too brief for the taste to linger the way Armand wished it to.
An awkward chuckle made Daniel's Adam's apple bop, and Armand’s eyes traced the movement with an all-consuming hunger. "Huh," Daniel said, sounding a little breathless himself. "Thank god the world is ending, huh?"
A frown drew Armand's eyebrows together.
"Otherwise this would be a hell of a lot more awkward," clarified Daniel.
"Yes," Armand agreed, just to say something. "Thank God."
In a move more daring than he felt, he reached out his hand after all, to tuck that stray lock of hair behind Daniel’s ear which had fallen into his face again during the kiss. "You haven't been feeding," he scolded gently. "If the world were to end tomorrow, would you want to go out hungry?"
"No." Daniel's tongue darted out to lick the remnants of Armand’s saliva from his lips. "Will you hunt with me?"
Dragging his gaze away, Armand looked over his shoulder, out the window where drops of water chased each other over the glass. "It’s raining."
As he turned back to him, he noted that Daniel’s eyes were still entirely on him, his expression still infuriatingly unreadable. "Yeah."
Armand had almost forgotten how disarming the sight of Daniel’s face was when he smiled without smiling. When all that gave away his mirth was that spark in his eyes until the twitch of his risorius muscle tugged one corner of his mouth up into a lopsided smirk. Handsome. So handsome, in a way that felt so normal. Without conscious thought, he found himself smiling back.
"Hmm," Armand hummed, feeling pleased. Feeling excited. Feeling trepidatious for being pleased and excited. With grace, he lifted himself to his feet and offered Daniel his hand. "Let's go then."
Daniel’s hand was as cold as his, but the gentle rain warmed them up soon enough.