Chapter Text
There’s no one evening where Daniel wakes up and it's over. Maybe it's never over. His body rides shotgun, hands off the wheel until the next time Daniel needs to rest his eyes.
“I'm feeling better,” he tells Louis, once he's pretty confident it'll stay true. “I'll be okay, if you need a breather from beak-feeding me.”
“We've been doing that on autopilot for a while, I think,” Louis says. “You can ship out, or not. Don't feel obligated either way.”
“You weren't gonna mention my clean bill of health?”
“Didn't want us to get ahead of ourselves. I figured you might have your own reasons for caution.”
“I mean, I don't know what I don’t know,” Daniel says, “but I don't think I'd want to eat the help if they were here.”
“That's more than I can say, some days.”
Daniel breathes out through his nose. He chose this moment, passing by each other in one of the cavernous penthouse hallways, because they could, in his vision of the conversation, keep walking and going about their nights instead of immediately dealing with whatever emotions it might or might not provoke in either or both of them. They're not walking, is the thing. They're standing in the middle of the hallway and making eye contact.
“I mean it,” Louis says. “You don't have to stay, you don’t have to leave. Any home of mine is a home of yours, any time you want it.”
“Jesus, Louis,” Daniel says. “You can't just drop this stuff on people.”
“You saved my life. It should go without saying.”
“If I saved your life, that means we're even. Actually, no, you just saved mine again? Quick, get another insane marriage for me to ruin.”
“Not really on the market,” Louis says.
“Could've fooled me, I watched you pay your international phone bill.”
“I need to do things differently, this time around,” Louis says. “We both do. Got some ideas for how to set us up right, too. You'll be on board, if I'm not misreading things.”
“I'm sane enough to put safety and consent back on the table, huh?”
“As sane as any of us ever will be.” Louis takes a step towards him. “Am I misreading things?”
Daniel swallows. “You know you aren't.”
Another step, and Louis is close enough to cup Daniel's jaw in one of his careful, beautiful hands. “Can I hear it?” Louis asks him. “Out loud, in your voice.”
“I've said it to you so many times.”
“Parts of you have. I want it from all of you.”
Daniel tips his cheek into Louis’ palm. “I'm terrible at this shit, Louis.”
“You're really not that bad. Solidly above average.”
“I love you,” Daniel says. “Adore you. Think you're fucking magnificent. There you go.”
“And you know,” Louis says, his voice quiet, stretched a little thin, “you know I can't - I won't belong to you. I won't belong to anyone.”
“Pretty sure I do belong to someone, a bit,” Daniel says, “and it's not you. It's also not stopping me.”
Louis huffs, traces Daniel's bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. “If any two people in the world have earned hall passes.”
“Is it a hall pass if neither one of us is supposed to be in class to begin with?”
“Touché.” The last half-step in, pressed all up along Daniel's chest. “Magnificent, huh?”
“You don't have to say it back,” Daniel says. “The other part. Not that you - it's fine, is what I mean. Either way.”
“I'll say it,” Louis says. “It's already true, but, y'know. Takes me some time.”
“Plenty of that to go around,” Daniel says.
Louis’ lips feel as good as they look. He lets Daniel tug the lower one between his front teeth and tongue at the swell of it. Louis’ hands slide up to Daniel's waist until they find the best spot to grip. He angles his jaw, licks into Daniel's mouth.
When they pull apart, they don't go far. Louis smiles, and Daniel smiles back, and they bump foreheads and noses and nestle up against each other the way Daniel's body has been begging for since Louis found him in the penthouse, or possibly since Louis found him in San Francisco.
“Come to bed?” Louis asks him.
Daniel wraps his arms around Louis’ shoulders. “Lead the way.”
Louis makes an earthy sound and picks Daniel up with his palms in the dips under his ribs. Daniel gets his legs over Louis’ hips, and then they're moving, dodging tables and doorframes every time Daniel kisses Louis off course.
They make it to the sanctuary, and Louis deposits Daniel in the bed they've been sharing. Daniel scoots back, and keeps scooting back, this is too much goddamn pillowtop. “Did you order this thing custom, or is there a secret mattress store for orgies?”
“I ordered it custom from the orgy store.” Louis climbs in after Daniel, crawls at him like the sexy apex predator he is. He's so handsome. If Divisadero Daniel could see himself now, he'd probably - he'd do everything the same, actually, because that’s what got him here.
“You're gorgeous,” Daniel says. “I dig you as a person, obviously, wanna make that very clear, but you are, like - have you seen yourself?”
Louis prowls all the way into Daniel's lap. None of the curling up they've been doing has prepared Daniel in any way for how it feels to have Louis du Lac straddling him. “I've overheard you seeing me,” Louis says. “Some evocative thoughts in that head.”
“I'm suddenly embarrassed in ways I didn't know I was still capable of.”
“Don't be,” Louis says. “It's nice to be looked at. I've been looking back.”
“Oh, I'm just sure.”
“Daniel.” Louis rolls his hips once, twice, hard and heavy against the very top of Daniel's thigh. “I'd like to be fucked. You feeling amenable?”
“Christ,” Daniel says. “If I can last, yeah, absolutely. Test our luck, babe.”
Louis starts trying to taste Daniel's soft palate again, which isn't going to help Daniel turn a sprint into a marathon, but, hell. It's Louis’ erection to waste.
“You're a vampire,” Louis says in his head. “A well-fed fledgling, no less. There's plenty of you to go around.”
Which would be a more compelling argument if Daniel's hand didn't still shake when he thought too hard about global warming. They might need to start spiking his blood bags with Cialis.
Louis pulls half an inch away, long enough to say, “Trust me, okay?”
“You've gotten me this far, I'll grant you that.”
“Shirt,” Louis says, and he peels his own off over his head. Miles of smooth skin, a perfect dusting of hair from his pecs to his belly, lean muscles with spreads of soft padding where mortal life wore on him a little less relentlessly.
“This is why men forget how to act around you,” Daniel says, and Louis winks, helps Daniel get his t-shirt off and away.
“Drink from me,” Louis says, when they're bare chest to bare chest. “I want you to.”
Daniel opens his mouth to say something stupid, probably do you promise, and his fangs choose that moment to drop. Louis’ eyes go dark like those two teeth exist specifically to make him happy. He tips his head to the side, bares his neck, and Daniel nuzzles in, finds a spot that was made to fit his mouth.
“It's supposed to feel good for you,” Daniel mumbles, nose bumping the underside of Louis’ jaw. “How do I make it good?”
“You stop teasing and do it, is how.”
Daniel sinks his fangs in, and Louis makes a noise that would sound absurdly overwrought if Daniel couldn't taste exactly how much he meant every decibel of it. Desire is a flavor, a temperature, a scent, a consistency. It's the rhythm of Louis’ heart carrying him up and around and out onto Daniel's tongue. He opens, gives and gives.
“That's perfect,” Louis sighs. “Yeah, you're - yes, Daniel.”
Daniel runs his hands over every inch of Louis he can reach and feasts on him, gorges himself, until Louis is riding his thigh like it's the main event. He tastes like salt and citrus. Like biting into a lemon just to feel the acid fight back. Like sucking cock for the first time in a back room on a sticky summer Sunday, the shock of revelation before the shame remembered to creep in. Or dancing in a smoky bar with a man pressed up against his back, iron in his teeth, coasting on a borrowed high. Or laughing after an unexpected orgasm, being told between kisses that your pleasure is a gift, chéri, and one I am happy to receive whenever you deign to give it. Or powering through the exhaustion, snapping in in in into a trembling body, testing at the boundaries of it and touching bliss like a hot stove, blooming for him, brimming over–
“Fuck,” Daniel says, when he pulls off. “Oh my god.”
Louis looks the way Daniel feels. He'd tried to be tidy about his bite, but there was all that squirming and smearing, and the punctures haven't closed yet, either, so there's fresh blood trailing down to pool in the dip of Louis’ collarbone. The whole bottom half of Daniel's face is wet. They need to have every possible kind of sex with each other, preferably all at once.
“Clean your plate,” Louis says.
So Daniel licks and mouths and kisses until his bite ring is gone and there's nothing left but a vague reddish stain to Louis’ skin. Louis isn't getting it on with Daniel's quads quite as vigorously anymore, but he's pressed close, petting Daniel's hair.
“You gonna do me?” Daniel asks, rough-voiced.
“No obligation, baby.”
“Are you kidding? If you don't eat me I'm gonna cry.”
“It'll feel strange,” Louis says, voice going all makerly, “but–”
“I have been drunk from so many times, Louis,” Daniel says. “I'm a fucking thermos. Get in there.”
Louis takes a second to catch up, which is fair, it's relatively new information for Daniel as well. But he gets there, and smiles, thumbs the side of Daniel's neck. “I remember how you tasted, that first time. Been wondering if you'll taste the same.”
“Did I taste good?”
“You tasted vivid. Like doing straight shots of your mind.”
“Let me know how I am when I'm barrel-aged,” Daniel says, and Louis ducks in.
Daniel's been on the business end of Louis’ fangs once before, and this isn't as different from that as he'd expected it to be. Louis sinks through his skin and tugs, lodges in place and drinks around his teeth until the flow slows down and he has to actually get a seal. It's overwhelming, dizzying, a lightheaded kick of pain that makes the pleasure hit that much harder. Daniel's veins are erogenous zones, and Louis is dragging the blood around in them, rubbing them raw.
“Oh,” Daniel says, when Louis starts tonguing at the wound between pulls, “okay, it's - holy shit,” because it's even better than he remembers. How did it get even better?
“This is our language.” Louis’ voice right at home in Daniel’s head. “You know how it feels from the other side. You know what you're giving me.”
Daniel cups his hand around the back of Louis’ neck to hold him in place. Arches his spine to press against him, his unshakeable weight. “You can have it whenever you want it.”
“I know damn well I can.”
Daniel laughs, and he can feel Louis smile where he's latched. He starts playing with Daniel's chest, trailing his fingertips around, cupping and squeezing. The longer he feeds, the rougher he gets, and he's back to circling his hips, his strong thighs working, pinning Daniel in, and it’s all dangerously close to–
“Come when you come,” Louis says. “I'll get you there again.”
“Who says - who says I need clearance?”
Louis tugs Daniel's nipple between his knuckles. “Just a hunch.”
So, sure, fuck it. Daniel comes in his sweatpants like the teenager he is, relatively speaking. Louis groans and takes one last long drink, because he can taste it, can’t he? He can taste how good it feels when he grinds his ass down into Daniel’s lap and eats out his neck and kneads at his soft parts like he owns the place. A mouthful of Daniel's yes please, and whatever else is screening at the magic blood cinema.
Louis licks Daniel shut after that, obviously, he can't just drink from Daniel forever. There's a limited supply of Daniel juice. He's actually a little woozy when he tries to open his eyes, so Louis timed things well. Daniel presses his face into Louis’ chest, curls tickling his nose, and thinks about how it's objectively a good thing that Louis doesn't have a direct link to how much Daniel loves him, anymore.
“Still picking up what you're putting down,” Louis says. “Don't worry, baby.”
“How'd you phrase it, again? Overwhelmed by feelings of intimacy?”
Louis hums.
Daniel inhales, one more drag of blood-musky skin, and sits back to look at Louis. Beautiful Louis. Tragic, brilliant, viciously funny, smart stupid wonderful Louis. A world whittled into the shape of a man. “I do,” Daniel says. “Love you, I mean.”
“I know,” Louis says. “I keep pinching myself.”
“And I want - I'm not sure what I want, yet,” Daniel says. “I want it with you, I've got that much sorted out.”
Louis smiles, kisses Daniel again. He and Daniel are the same temperature, and Daniel's lizard brain is insisting that means Louis is warm. Warm and heavy on top of him. The survivals of the individual and the species are aligning for the first time in a while.
“You're getting come on my pants,” Louis says, lifting up on his knees. “Off, c'mon.”
Daniel wiggles out of his sweats and gross boxers - red, that'll take getting used to coming off a decade of health scares - and watches Louis unbuckle and unbutton. It's a good view, best seat in the house, and Louis takes his time with it. Slides his belt all the way out and tosses it aside, eases his waistband down over his hips. He's got on those underwear that they only sell to hot gay people.
“Anyone can - you know what,” Louis says, “I'll accept the hot part, thank you.”
“At least I know what to get you and the missus for Christmas.”
“He's in silk satin boxer briefs or he's freeballing, I'm afraid, nothing in between.”
“That is not something you're supposed to know in this century.”
“Not my fault he tailors his jeans for the early aughts.”
Louis shifts back to peel his bottoms off, and Daniel gives him half a dozen once-overs in a row, because he is so - “The exact target demographic of those underwear.”
Louis gets up in Daniel's space, pushes him down into the pillows. “Lie back,” he murmurs, “that's perfect. Lemme take a look at you.”
Daniel considers, briefly, what he has to offer Louis in that regard. Not the worst visuals in the world, but not - not some of the other people Louis has gotten regular eyefuls of, not even close. There's some novelty value, maybe. Wiry gray hair, skin that doesn't snap back.
“I'm gonna show you exactly what I think of the eyeful I'm getting,” Louis tells him. “All you're gonna do is feel it. Been too long since this body felt good.”
“I can manage that,” Daniel says. “Shit, I'm doing it already, look at me go.”
Louis throws a leg over and settles across Daniel's pelvis. Daniel has the brief frustrating thought that he and his spine might regret this position in the morning, and then he remembers that he's a vampire and Louis can get at him from whatever direction he wants. He could flip Daniel upside down if he was in the mood. Cuff his wrists to the bedposts and his ankles to the headboard and keep him like that for hours.
“Next time,” Louis says, eyes crinkling at the corners as he reaches across Daniel, grabs the lube, pops the cap. “Put those hands wherever you want, tonight.”
Daniel palms Louis’ thighs, thumbs at the soft inner curves. “I've been staring at these since day one,” Daniel says, “just so you know.”
“Your human thoughts weren't quiet either, Daniel.”
“Your fucking Tom Ford yoga pants,” Daniel says, kneading his fingers in. “I wanted to bend you over the reading table.”
Louis reaches around behind himself and slicks Daniel up, a few perfunctory strokes. “We'll do it,” he says. “All of it. Need you inside me first.”
“Yeah, I need me inside you first, too,” Daniel says, “here, lemme just - oh, okay. Wow.”
It’s maybe one of the most decadent things Daniel's ever seen. Louis takes his cock slow, works the head against himself in this long drawn-out grind until he opens up and lets a little bit in. And again, and again, coaxing half-inches like he's done this a million times, because he has - a less hyperbolic number of times, but still. He knows the exact rhythm he needs, what he can handle, where he can push his limits. A virtuoso of his instrument.
Daniel musters all his prizewinning eloquence and says, “You're tight.”
Louis laughs at him, which is unfair, and also kind of hot. Something to consider later, when Daniel's higher functions aren't going offline. “You're thick,” Louis says, breathy with the work he and his legs are putting in.
Maybe taking dick in one go is a vampire thing. Daniel's gonna have to break the mold when it's his turn, getting fingered is half the fun. “You sure you don't want–”
Louis shakes his head. Pulls off most of the way, adds another round of lube, sinks back to where he was. “I like this,” he says, circling his hips, another nudge down. “Lets me feel it.”
Daniel presses one hand to Louis’ belly, slides the other around to grab his ass. “Good thing we didn't fuck in ‘73, I would've lasted a minute, max.”
“You would've made it up to me.”
“Unsatisfying lay, satisfying lunch.”
Louis wipes the worst of the lube off his hand onto his bougie sheets, and plants his palms on Daniel's chest, a thumb for each nipple. “This was worth the wait,” Louis says. “You wanna come? Or can I ride for a while?”
“You do whatever you need to do. My dick is your dick.”
Louis lifts up, drags back down. He's not sitting in Daniel's lap, yet, but he’s getting there. “Christ,” he says, and laughs again, his eyes fluttering shut. “Yeah, that’s - there you are.”
The last person to unabashedly enjoy Daniel’s cock this much was - well. Not someone he should be thinking about right now, if he doesn't want to completely rain out their parade. He watches Louis fuck himself instead, all the wiry strength in his body, his head rolling back when he finds the angle he needs. Rough, pretty noises coming up from the pit of his chest.
“How much more?” Louis asks, eyes still closed, little smile still on his lips.
And Daniel isn't unusually long, he's not even that much thicker than average in the grand scheme of dicks he’s seen, but he says, “Another inch, babe, you're almost there,” and yes, he feels some type of way about it. It would take a stronger man than Daniel not to. Low bar, but still.
Louis gets him in to the root and keeps him there, relaxes around him, adjusts to the feeling. Daniel hasn’t had anything inside himself in a decade, and everything that happened post-Y2K stayed between him and his personal massager, before his joints went to shit and he sent it off to pound endless ass in vibrator Valhalla. He'd sort of forgotten how being fucked felt, from then until now, but watching Louis is getting some clear tones out of those rusty mental bells.
“Used to hate how much I liked it,” Louis tells him, twisting his hips, slow, slow. “Then I figured, nothing gets called a sin unless there’s a damn compelling reason to do it otherwise. And then Lestat got me off with nothing but his dick and his teeth.”
“Yeah,” Daniel says, “hands-free changes a man.”
Louis laughs again. He laughs a lot in bed, it turns out, at least with Daniel. Daniel's always liked that in a lover. It's sex, there's nothing so sacrosanct about it that Daniel can't break kayfabe a little in the middle. Catch eye contact and crack a grin when the knuckles make it in. Not that anybody's getting fisted any time soon, that's just the first thing that came to mind. It'd take way less logistical planning, now, all Daniel would have to do is spread his legs and–
“Get out of here, Louis,” Daniel thinks, as clearly as he can, because Louis is raising his eyebrows.
Louis smiles down at him, ruffles his chest hair. “Look at that,” he says, “you learn quick when there's an incentive.”
That last one could have been a fluke, of course, always test for repeatability, so Daniel zeroes in on Louis’ beautiful face and thinks, “Kiss me.”
“Manners,” Louis says, which is - huh. Talk about being a natural.
“Kiss me, politely.”
Louis scoffs, but he leans forward and kisses the living daylights out of Daniel. The deceased nighttimes. Whatever vampires have; not that it matters, because Daniel doesn’t have them anymore, Louis is kissing them into obsolescence. Moving his hips, too, lifting up and dropping back down, working a moan out of Daniel that Louis licks through while it's still humming between their mouths.
“Our boy.” Louis bumps their noses together, sets a lazy rhythm. “That's what you want, I think. To be ours.”
Not the pronoun Daniel was expecting. “What,” Daniel starts, and breaks off and swallows when his voice hitches. “What,” he tries again, slightly sturider, “makes you say that?”
“You stayed,” Louis says. “Could've torn our lives apart, cashed your check, and taken your last years easy. You stayed here, instead.”
“Yeah,” Daniel says, “and we know how that went.”
“Look to be doing pretty well for yourself, from where I am.”
Daniel cups Louis’ jaw in his hands. Veiny and rough next to Louis’ smooth cheeks. Louis turns his head to kiss one palm, then the other.
“I looked for you,” Daniel says. “I don't know if - if you ever knew that. After the interview, I kept going back to Mary's. I wanted another look behind the curtain.”
“Sounds like you got your wish.”
“For a while, sure,” Daniel says. “All things considered, you're a better tour guide. Fuck's sake, Louis, why are we talking about our ex?”
“Your head's full of him,” Louis says. “Don't want you feeling guilty, that’s all. He's your maker.”
“He's not the one here, though, is he?”
“He'll always be with you,” Louis says. “I'll be around, too, that should balance it out some.”
Daniel runs his hands down over Louis’ chest to hold his perfect nipped-in waist, lean muscles framed between his thumbs. “I am, too,” he says. “Here. Around.”
“Yeah, you are, aren't you? After weeks of hardassery,” Louis says. “Mean little thorn in my side, poking holes right through my life. And the second that’s gone, the performance and pretense of it, I've got you curled up in my sheets.”
The half-memory of his half-self right where he is now, tucked in for the day. “Wasn't exactly me, though, was it?”
“It was the leftover living thing in you,” Louis says, “looking for a place to lay its bones. I like to make sure my bed gives shelter. You make it easy to turn down safe covers.”
“Starting to think you got on my dick so you could sweet-talk a captive audience.”
“What if I did? I can't tell my sweet boy how sweet he is? Fine.”
“I swear to god,” Daniel starts, and then Louis braces a hand on the headboard, and whatever Daniel was going to swear about is fully lost to the ages.
They were having conversation sex before, which Daniel hadn't noticed, because it looked a lot like all the best human-style sex of his mortal life. This, what Louis is doing with their bodies right now, is not something Daniel's going to be making complete sentences through. He's wringing them both out, riding with the kind of tunnel focus that would scare the shit out of Daniel if he was food. He's got his free hand right at the center of Daniel's chest, pushing him down, pinning him in place. All of him strung tight, working Daniel's dick with every muscle he has.
“Ah,” Daniel says.
Louis grins at him. He has so many teeth. “You can take it, baby.”
“Yeah,” Daniel says, “yeah, I - fuck.”
“Feels good, right?” Of course Louis is still talking, he loves to talk. “You feel it more, like everything else. We'll take it nice and slow, later, okay? See how many new ways we can get you off. I always needed a hand on my dick, but I got turned, and suddenly I'm fucking - I'm coming while I get my tits played with. I'm coming from giving head.”
Daniel’s getting enough of a handle on Louis’ rhythm to start rocking his hips, meeting every drop down. Louis tweaks the angle, goes briefly shaky in the legs when he gets it right.
“I knew you'd be pretty like this,” Louis says, when he's steady again. “Knew you'd get a little drunk on it. Talk to me, baby, I wanna hear you try.”
“You are,” Daniel grits out, voice jostling its way up from his lungs, “an asshole.”
Louis’ response is to bear down tighter, and it knocks a laugh out of both of them. “Just you wait, I'm a dick, too. C'mon, like this, fuck me full.”
Hard to argue with that. Daniel follows instructions, and Louis moans like he’s the one finishing somewhere slick and tight, getting an orgasm ridden out of him by a man he loves so much that it hits like relief.
“Perfect,” Louis is saying, “you're perfect. God, you're beautiful. Right behind you, sweetheart.”
Daniel opens his mouth and tries to send over something coherent about what he wants Louis to do with it. Louis pulls off him, which is briefly terrible, but it's so he can knee-walk up Daniel's chest, push the head of his dick between Daniel's lips and rub it on his tongue. He's got a hand flying over the rest of himself, and that's not fair, Daniel could take it, he wants it–
“You wanted mouth, not throat. Hold it for me.”
That's all the warning Daniel gets. There's a little more tannin here than when it's fresh from the vein, but the same hint of citrus, a red grapefruit wine. He grabs Louis’ ass with both hands and kneads like it'll get him a longer pour. Louis makes a low animal sound, drags himself back and forth over the ridge of Daniel's bottom teeth.
He pulls out, and Daniel opens again. A trail spills out from the corner of his lips, and Louis catches it with his thumb, pushes it back in. “Good job,” Louis says, tapping Daniel's chin with one knuckle. “Go ahead.”
Daniel swallows twice to be thorough, and Louis kisses him afterwards, slow, wet, spooling out between them. He could work up to another round, if Louis is to be believed, but he's learning that kissing Louis is its own reward. If he's lucky, and it's starting to seem like he is, there will be whole nights of nothing but Louis kisses in his future. Sundown to sunup, with a break for blood bags.
“See, that sounds great on paper,” Louis says, “but I'll fold and beg for cock an hour in. I always do.”
“Gonna need proof, I think.”
“Give yourself a breather,” Louis says, pulling back. “You’re dawndrunk, baby. Look at you.”
“I got - I got five minutes in me, c'mere.”
“You're out, Daniel,” Louis says, and he’s not wrong.
℘
The sleep of the undead, there and gone again, a blink that lags; and then Daniel is waking up at dusk with Louis nested behind him, chest molded to his back, palm spread out over his ribs. He's nipping Daniel's shoulders, pulling up beads of blood and licking them clean while the scrapes close under his tongue. It feels like - like nothing Daniel has ever felt before in his life. No analogy. Louis is new.
“Morning,” Daniel mumbles. “How's breakfast?”
“I love you,” Louis says, his breath soft and cool along Daniel's hairline. “There, I wanted to - I love you, Daniel.”
“Love you too, babe,” Daniel says. “Drink for real, go on.”
Louis nests his teeth over his old bite and sinks through the scar tissue until he finds a vein. It aches from Daniel's jaw down to his shoulder, tugs everything taut. Maybe Louis could give him a wrist, and they could lie here, cycle blood between themselves like a single body.
It ends, but that's only because Louis has to roll over and grab the lube, so Daniel can't be too sad about it. Louis must have trimmed his nails while Daniel was still asleep; two long, blunt fingers press inside, easing him open until he's rocking back to meet them. A gentle nudge up, and Daniel’s entire lower body jumps, his fucking toes curl. Louis does it again, keeps doing it until Daniel's leaking all over the sheets.
“We could get you there like this, huh?” Louis asks, and yes, Daniel loves the fingers, but Louis’ cock is nudging up against his back, and it's going to absolutely hollow him out once it's in, he needs it - “I know,” Louis says, “I got you.”
He makes his space in Daniel with one slow push, and Daniel lets him, easy as anything. Heavy fullness all the way up his spine, melting through him until he couldn't move even if he wanted to. Louis sculpted to fit him inside and out, everywhere he touches.
“You can,” Daniel says, “you can, yeah. Fuck me.”
Louis makes a noise not unlike a growl, and starts moving. Deliberate, relentless. Pressing out against Daniel's boundaries, rubbing at every delicate sensitive place. He pets at Daniel's chest and says, “You like that, sweetheart?”
Daniel snorts, he can't help it. Louis’ rhythm falters for a second, and Daniel says, “Sorry, shit, - no, I really like it. Big fan.”
A puff of breath on the back of Daniel's neck, and wordless telepathic warmth to go with it. “Just making sure,” he says. “I want to know.”
“You like that?”
“I'm waking up, still, gimme a minute. Not all of us got gold medals in language.”
“Quality over quantity, du Lac.”
Louis braces Daniel with an arm over his ribs. And sure, maybe Daniel lays his own arm on top of it, and maybe that means his hand is cupping the back of Louis’ hand, and maybe Louis spreads his fingers so Daniel can lace in between them, and maybe that more than anything makes Daniel feel like he turned with the Cloud Gift pre-loaded. Louis also gets to going at him like he means it. It's all about the balance.
There's an echo of the last time Daniel got fucked like this; inevitable, for a few different reasons. It's not unpleasant, now that Daniel acknowledges it. A muscle that's mostly done being pulled, the twinge left over as a calling card. You forgot which direction I bend. Proof that it still works when it's used as intended.
And it really, really works. Dick is great. Like, sure, Armand scooped out twelve years of soul-molding love, but he also scooped out twelve years of how amazing dick is, and that might be the one Daniel holds against him.
Those are thoughts for later, though, because Daniel's getting held against someone in a much more enjoyable way at the moment. Louis spreads his free hand out over Daniel's belly, and Daniel can't even manage to be self conscious about it for more than half a second, because it feels like Louis is aiming up through him, holding him in place so he can try to fuck farther in, hit his own palm.
“Louis,” Daniel says, tipping his head back, “fuck, you're gonna–”
“Yeah?” Louis steers Daniel’s jaw around and gives him a kiss that feels like a bite with how it shocks his system, steals all his focus. “Go ahead, baby, work that ass for me.”
Daniel comes with Louis’ tongue in his mouth, which is really the only way to fly. And it's almost surreal to do after decades of not even remembering he knew how, but by god, Daniel works that ass for him. His body's not so different than it was for his last turn on the bottoming bike, he's already got his feet back in the pedals. Judging from the noises behind him, it's still a good ride.
“You need me out?” Louis asks, his voice thick. “I can slow down.”
“If you do, I'll kill you.”
Louis drags his blunt teeth over Daniel's nape. “Harder?”
“Yeah,” Daniel says, “yeah, you can just - you can use it.”
Daniel's on his stomach, and he waits for the movement that got him that way to register, but his brain doesn't bother. He's here, now. Louis on top of him, fucking him down, breathing rough into his ear. Daniel spreads his legs and arches his back, a tilt of his hips that lets Louis drive even deeper inside him, so Daniel can offer him every inch, every last centimeter.
“Good boy,” for fuck's sake, Daniel is gonna give Louis so much shit for that as soon as he can string a sentence together, “you’re a dream, baby. Made for this.”
“S'yours,” Daniel says, muffled in the pillow, and it's a partial truth, sure, but it's still true.
Louis plants a hand between Daniel's shoulder blades and fucks him until he stops making noise, because noise requires breath, and breathing would use up valuable energy that Daniel could put into getting Louis off.
“You want it inside?” Louis asks him. “You can have it. Gonna keep you right here all night, watch it leak out and fuck it right back into you.”
“Promises, promises,” Daniel thinks as loudly as he can.
“And I follow through,” Louis says. “You want a little sting, baby?”
Louis sends Daniel a technicolor mental image of exactly what he means, and Daniel says, “God, yes.”
So Louis smacks Daniel right where his ass meets his thigh, and Daniel feels himself flutter around Louis inside him, and he feels Louis twitch mid-stroke, and Louis smacks him again. He says, “You're gonna give me another one,” like it's an objective fact. Everybody and their mother knows that Daniel can and will come again. Louis slaps him twice on the other cheek.
“Again,” Daniel says, so Louis does it again. There's recoil. “Yeah, I'm - you stopped talking.”
“Because you like it, now,” Louis says on his next breath, a horny dam breaking, “‘course you do, everybody’s a fucking critic until you're ass-up and all of a sudden you wanna hear about your tight,” slap, “little,” slap, “cunt.”
“Fuck off,” Daniel says, not convincingly at all. “Louis, Jesus, you are so–”
“What am I, wrong?” Louis braces a hand on Daniel’s back again, digs his nails in a little. “That's what I thought. Tell me you like it.”
“Oh my god.” Daniel's laughing again, giddy, face mashed into the pillow. “I like it, you - you are so embarrassing, you called me a good–”
Daniel starts coming somewhere in there, so he gives up on consonants for a bit. Plenty of vowel sounds from both of them, though, when Louis stops snapping and starts grinding, burying himself deep, taking thirty seconds out of this whole thing to be selfish.
“Holy shit,” Daniel says, when Louis sags down on top of him. “You're insane. I love you.”
“Yeah?” Louis is grinning. Daniel can't see it, but he can hear it. If he concentrates, he can feel it.
“I need this dick on call. No, no, leave it in there, it's cozy.”
Louis rolls off to the side anyway. Daniel rolls after him. He's a cuddler, sometimes.
“Every time,” Louis says, “‘least in my experience.” He lets Daniel throw an arm over his chest, use his shoulder as a pillow.
“Okay, vampire question,” Daniel says. “How long before I can do that again?”
“Soon, if we feed you now. Twice in twelve hours, we gotta get your fluids back.”
“You came in me, though. Wouldn’t I absorb that blood? How is that different from drinking?”
“Drinking goes through your mouth. I think that's the big one.”
“So giving head is like a little snack? How're we getting the blood from our stomachs to our veins, anyway? Gastrointestinal magic? Did my gut biome die and un-die too?”
“One minute,” Louis says. “I earned myself one minute of peace, I know I did.”
“You are so hot,” Daniel says, “it’s like - it's pissing me off.”
“Anybody ever tell you you've got a way with words?”
“Two prize committees and a bunch of suck-up undergrads.” Daniel stretches, flexes his legs. “Shit, I gotta make more sexy friends who're between marriages, that was fantastic.”
A softer smile, now. “You honestly think you're a stopgap, Daniel?”
“I think when you finally shack up with somebody again, it won't be me. I'll visit, if you want, provided I don't get roasted and toasted over it.”
“He won't mind,” Louis says. “If he does, then it stops being an issue to begin with.”
“You would not leave Lestat for the privilege of occasional wrinkly dick. Come on, now.”
“Not everything is about you.” Louis twirls one of Daniel’s curls around his finger, says, “I told you, I won't belong to anyone. Goes double for him.”
“He's gonna throw a fit,” Daniel says. “You realize that, right?”
“I can wait him out, I got time.”
“Or we could be smart, head back to NOLA together by way of Vegas.”
“You gonna make an honest man out of me? Louis Molloy?”
Daniel snorts. “Louis Molloy sounds like he gets two lines before he's swiss cheesed by James Cagney in the first act.”
“Daniel de Pointe du Lac sounds like he writes crime novels for people who miss segregation.”
“We'd have to keep our originals, be modern about it,” Daniel says. “If we were smart, which we're not.”
Louis pets through the hair on Daniel's chest. “I'm getting smarter,” he says. “Slow and steady.”
“Yeah,” Daniel says. “Me too.”
“And in the meantime, you can borrow the plane.”
“After we drop you off in Louisiana?”
“Maybe. Eventually. Wanna stay here a little longer, first,” Louis says, “give this a chance to settle. As long as you're not on a tight schedule.”
Daniel considers eternity, the sprawling impossibility of it, and then he considers eternity starting with a few weeks of fucking Louis du Lac all over his weird ugly penthouse. “Sure,” he says, “I'm flexible, these days.”
“Aren't you just,” Louis says, and kisses him, and kisses him.