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Daniel’s only experience with appendicitis was his mom’s old tales. If he swallowed chewing gum or swallowed apple seeds, his appendix would one day pay the price. For an 8-year-old Daniel Molloy, who didn’t even know where his appendix was, this had little effect.
50 years later, Daniel was starting to think all the gum and apple seeds did have their kickback.
He was able to ignore it initially. Squinting at his MacBook at his dining room table kept Daniel occupied and able to tell himself that the pain was just gas. Annoying human problems.
The pain persisted, though. Leading to a restless night’s sleep where he was either circled up on his side or too afraid to move in fear of making the pain worse.
Daniel doesn’t get up when morning comes. Actually, Daniel can’t account for what happened in the morning. He was tired, in pain, and running a fever by that point.
He remembers when Armand manifested inside of his bedroom like a mirage. Armand knelt by his bed, eyes filled with a vast amount of concern.
“Hey babe.” It’s only been 2 years since they’ve last seen each other. What’s 2 years to a vampire? Two years, to Daniel, was a hell of a lot. Even though he was annoyed, Daniel couldn’t focus on anything other than how much his life sucked at the moment. “Can you hand me my phone?”
“You’re unwell,” Armand says before he does hand Daniel his iPhone. “Beloved, why didn’t you call for me?”
Ugh, the screen was so bright. Daniel mumbles a profanity underneath his breath. “I didn’t think we were on speaking terms.”
Armand’s face twists into a grimace. “Does that matter now? You should always call when you’re like this.”
Each little word typed out on the small keyboard sends Daniel into a little more pain than the last, but he manages. He clicks on the first blue link reading WebMD. He scrolls clumsily until he gets to the symptoms list, and well, there is his likely cause.
“Any chance you can compel an ambulance driver over to lil ol’ me?” Daniel lets the phone fall down onto his comforter with utmost gratefulness that he doesn’t have to hold it anymore. He looks over Armand to examine him properly.
It’s the human in Daniel that looks for change even though none can come from a vampire. Armand still looks the same as he did in the 80s. Except for the clothes. Daniel thinks his eyes are playing tricks on him when he realizes Armand was wearing a large, dark blue denim jacket that enveloped his whole body with loose black pants. He could almost pass for mortal if it weren't for his eyes.
Armand seems to think on something for a second.
“Wouldn’t it be quicker if I were to assume the role of your surgeon?” Armand asks like a child asking if you can get ice cream.
“Are you—“ Daniel closes his eyes at the onset of pain coming from his stomach. One breath, two breaths, three breaths. Okay, now he doesn’t feel like throwing up again. “Are you asking if you can remove my appendix?”
Armand tilts his head, his lips forming a barely-there pout. “You said Google told you that you likely had appendicitis. If I remove your appendix, then the issue will go away.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“I took it from your mind. That’s a way of saying it.” Armand doesn’t budge in his conviction.
Daniel knows their arguments could stretch onto next week. “Do you have experience? Is that another one of your vampire skills, body part removal?”
Armand smirks lightly. “I guess you could say that.”
“How many of your patients have made it out alive then? I’d like to stay alive if it's all the same to you.”
Alive and relatively pain-free, please and thank you.
“Rest assured you would come out a healthy, alive man, Daniel,” Armand says.
Even with a new wave of nausea clawing up this throat, Daniel still finds the energy to pry. “And let's say something goes wrong. You cut a major artery or something, and I start dying on my dining room table. Would you turn me to save me?”
Armand’s gaze hardens. This is what their last argument was about. It’s what all of their arguments are about. “I would not do that.”
“Say you did.”
“I wouldn’t,” Armand insists. He looks away, annoyed. “Or I could always call you an ambulance and have this done the professional way, Professor Molloy.”
Daniel snickers even when the title sends a little zap down his spine. “We aren’t doing that again.” He’s dying, and still. Only Armand can do that, huh? He imagines Armand above him in an ominous way. An unfathomable presence in the darkness of his home. Cutting into him, holding Daniel’s life in his hands for the untold time. Digging around his organs. Armand inside of him in a new way. His body gives another hazy jolt of interest. It’s been awhile. 2 years to be exact.
Daniel was a little curious. He gives a minute shrug. “Alright, cut my appendix out of me.”
Armand perks back up. He stands up to his full height in record speed and just as quickly reaches down to cup Daniel’s cheek. Like no time has passed, like they just woke up together after a date night, “Rest.”
Under better circumstances, Daniel would be able to put up a fight but he can’t now. His body goes lax and his head fills with soft, pillowy cotton. “What was that for?" he slurs.
“I have to acquire the appropriate equipment. I’ll be an hour at most, my love. Rest now.” Armand commands with enough authority in his voice to call down angels. Angels and Armand, haha, Daniel makes himself laugh sometimes.
He falls underneath the power of Armand’s compulsion with the last thing he’s seen being Armand’s loving gaze on him.
━━━━༻❁༺━━━━
Daniel wakes up to Armand admiring a series of very sharp knives. He blinks a few times to fight away the sleepiness and realizes he isn’t on his bed anymore. The surface is a little cold and unyielding beneath him.
“Did you steal a metal table?” Daniel asks.
Armand looks at him, and wow, he even has gloves on. “I don’t want to strain your dining table; it’s quite nice. We could buy another one, obviously, but a flight to Colombia during your recovery wouldn’t be the best.”
“What poor sap did you steal all of this from?”
“No one,” Armand answers him. “The Brooklyn Hospital Center will hardly realize what they are missing.”
Daniel turns his head and spots a variety of pill bottles. He holds back his disappointment at the realization he wasn’t going to get any of Armand’s blood. “You know I am trying to stay sober for once.”
“If you wish to feel the scalpel pierce your flesh in all of its entirety, speak now or forever hold your peace,” Armand deadpans.
"Tempting, but no.” Daniel looks up at the ceiling. Armand has turned on all the lamps in this place, but there are still shadows in the high corners of the ceiling. Not that it matters for Armand. Vampire vision and all that.
Armand coaxes his mouth open with his thumb. “Swallow these; they should help.”
“I want to be awake for this,” Daniel says.
Armand doesn’t blink, just removes two pink pills and brings his hand back to Daniel’s mouth. This time Daniel opens and swallows.
The effects aren't immediate, but by the time Armand has tied his hair back. Daniel starts to feel loopy in a way only strong painkillers can make you. The feeling sinks into his bones and makes all the edges of the world bearable. God. This is why it’s so hard to stay sober.
Surprises keep coming because Armand suddenly presents him his slit wrist.
Daniel’s eyes widen. “What happened to weaning me off?” He needs to stop mentioning their last argument lest Armand actually gets mad and leaves him with an apartment full of stolen medical equipment and an appendix about to burst.
“I worry the painkillers won’t be enough,” Armand admits. “Normally humans are asleep for this.”
“Normal ones, yeah.”
“Hm, yes, drink.”
If the painkillers make the world bearable, then Armand’s blood makes Daniel want to live forever. It has to be the vulnerability too, Daniel thinks after swallowing another mouthful. The way Armand just lets him drink from his open wrist with nothing but soft noises encouraging Daniel to drink more.
The remaining bits of pain that Daniel’s body tries to alert him to fade away as Daniel reluctantly parts from Armand. His addict brain is happy. Daniel is happy. He’s with Armand again. When does that not make him happy?
Armand should drink from him next, Daniel concludes; it’s only fair.
Something cold pokes his stomach. Daniel can’t really see, but he can recognize it as Armand’s claw after a beat. “I’ve looked at some anatomy charts. The first incision should be…” Daniel feels his skin get cut, but no pain comes. It’s a strange feeling. "Ah, Daniel, your skin parts quite beautifully.”
“You can’t get me hard during surgery,” Daniel protests.
“Can’t I?” Armand makes another longer cut. “If I do a good enough job, I should get a reward, right?”
“Me being alive isn’t an award enough? You want to ride me with my organs in view, babe?”
“Perhaps,” Armand says, coy. Daniel can feel his hand inside of his abdomen. The sounds reach Daniel’s ears, but the stimulus doesn’t go much further than that. He stops. “Do you need more painkillers?”
“I can’t feel a thing,” Daniel answers. “I’m not against you giving me more blood, though.”
“Greedy thing.” Oh, those are scissors going to his lower abdomen right about now. “Everything is tightly packed in here.”
“Are you critiquing me?”
“I am making an observation.” Armand pulls his stomach apart.
“You’ve seen bodies before.” Can Armand see his lungs? He probably didn’t cut high enough. Daniel still imagines it.
“Yes, to dispose of them and to drink their blood. Yours is the only one I’ve cared to examine in such detail.”
Greed is up there as one of Daniel’s greatest sins. It’s why he’s sitting in his own dining room getting his appendix removed by a 400-year-old vampire rather than going to a hospital like a normal person. He wants to hear those words again and again. To be Armand’s one and only in ideally everything and anything.
“Well, you’re examining the best,” Daniel says because he can’t stop himself.
“Not quite, since your appendix did decide to rupture,” Armand teases.
"Sorry, Mr. Per—“ Daniel stops short when he feels something tug deep inside of him. He strains to look, and the sight before him makes Daniel a little dizzy. There isn’t as much blood as he suspects. The incisions Armand made are calculated and must be done to minimize blood loss. But the sight of Armand’s arm inside of him, his dark skin a sharp contrast to the dark red of Daniel’s blood, makes him lightheaded.
“Apologies, your appendix is quite stubborn, like its owner,” Armand says, focused on the task.
“You can’t insult me when you’re taking out my appendix.” Another tug and it’s so weird. Daniel doesn’t think you should be able to feel your internal organs like this.
Then whatever Armand was doing must’ve worked because the tugging ceases and Daniel’s head falls back onto the table.
Armand is silent for too long.
“Am I dying?” Daniel wonders aloud.
The response is immediate. “Of course not.” Another lapse of silence. There are the sounds of Brooklyn outside. Does anyone know there’s an appendectomy going on in the apartment above their heads? “Would you like to see the offending organ?”
Does Daniel Molloy wish to see his inflamed appendix? Fuck yeah. Armand seems to get the message, and a few seconds later, Daniel sees exactly that. A bloody, agitated, pink mass. He laughs since there’s no other way to react to such a sight and Daniel doesn’t get any warning when it bursts into flames.
“What the hell? Warn a guy before you burn his appendix!” Daniel exclaims.
Armand’s expression is turbulent. “This thing almost killed you, beloved.”
Daniel’s movements are uncoordinated and undignified, but he manages to weakly grasp Armand’s wrist. “You would’ve saved me; I know you would have.” Armand leans forward minutely before he hesitates. Daniel knows what he wants, no telepathy required. “You can kiss me. My surgeon, my hero, it’s a little preview for your proper reward later.”
That’s all it takes for Armand to kiss him. He touches Daniel’s jaw with his glove still stained with Daniel’s own blood, and Daniel wouldn’t have it any other way.
━━━━༻❁༺━━━━
With the sun slowly setting, Armand seals up Daniel’s wounds with his blood. It takes a bit longer for Daniel to come out of the influence of his painkillers, but once he does, he does make good on his promise to award Armand for a surgery well done.
Afterwards, with Armand sex-flushed and Daniel reaping the benefits of being able to exist without excruciating pain, they lay together in Daniel’s bed.
“Hey.” Daniel’s head is ontop of Armand’s bed of curls. “Want a part two?”
Armand hums. “You did have a major surgery a few hours ago, Daniel.”
“Mm, the reward's for you, babe; come on, you haven’t eaten.”
“I don’t wish to part from you.” Armand looks up at him with round eyes, like a wet kitten left on the side of the road.
Sap. Daniel loves him.
“Don’t need to; drink from me,” Daniel says. “I know you want to. You did a good job holding yourself back earlier but, cmon, I want it.”
Armand’s fangs drop as his eyes light up, and Daniel wonders if his appendix could somehow burst again in order to get Armand like this once more.