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“Jesus fucking Christ.”
Daniel has been writing, or more like trying to write, this fucking article for weeks now. It was just supposed to be a small thing; a piece on internet censorship for a newspaper that’s somehow not completely repulsed by his recent “insanity” and still considers him a reputable journalist.
Of course, he jumped at the opportunity. As much as he loves his new (un)life and obviously he knows that his work on vampires is real journalism, most people consider him a conspiracy theorist. So, this article is a nice change of pace for once. Or it would have been, if it didn’t keep turning into a bigger and bigger story.
Now, Daniel is stuck hunting down tips from anonymous sources to expose Elon Musk. He should have just stuck to the vampires.
He sighs as he stares at the screen, inspiration has left him for the day but he knows he should keep going, can feel himself getting close to something good. Call it journalistic instinct, well-honed after many decades in the field.
Just as he shifts in his chair and places his fingers back on the keyboard, his ears pick up noises in the bathroom across the hall.
Armand must be in there. What he’s doing is anyone’s guess, Daniel can’t hear the shower nor does he think Armand is conducting any strange science experiments (or, well, he hopes).
He hasn’t seen much of Armand these last few days, though not necessarily by choice. This article has been demanding a lot of time and surprisingly, Armand has been pretty chill about that, but Daniel notices him growing more restless by the day.
This evening, Armand had actually pouted, complete with big teary eyes, when Daniel told him he’d be going to his office for the night. Suffice to say, it was a painful decision to make. One that Daniel regrets by now.
Look, maybe they’re a bit co-dependent or whatever, but he misses Armand already, which is exactly why he should finish the goddamn article. Yet, he’s also very curious as to what the older vampire is up to, ‘cause he must be up to something, Daniel can feel it in his bones. Journalistic instinct indeed.
Daniel has gotten so lost in his thoughts that he startles at the sudden knock on the door. He quickly spins his chair around.
“Yes?”
The door opens and Armand steps inside.
At least, Daniel thinks he does. His brain is going offline very rapidly, because Armand, whom Daniel is fairly certain is actually Armand and not a hallucination created by his sex-deprived brain, is leaning against the door frame in nothing more than a skimpy dressing gown.
It’s a black garment made of fine silk that barely reaches halfway down his smooth thighs. Armand has it belted and pulled tight around himself, making Daniel very curious indeed as to whatever he might be hiding, or not hiding, underneath.
Daniel’s eyes are so busy trailing down long legs to fine-boned ankles that he doesn’t see the self-sufficient smirk on Armand’s face, not until Armand shifts on his feet and clears his throat.
Meeting his eyes, Daniel’s quickly building arousal is only incensed further when he notices the makeup. Armand wears makeup in the day to day, of course, but it tends to be rather minimal.
Now, his eyes are heavily lined with black kohl, his eyelashes looking impossibly long. He also seems to be wearing dark eye shadow and his glossy lips are catching the warm light emanating from the dimmable ceiling lamp in the room.
“Did I forget my birthday?”, Daniel asks.
He’s having some trouble moving his limbs, struck dumb in his office chair. All the blood in his body is rushing towards his crotch instead of his brain.
Armand smiles at him and continues leaning seductively against the door frame, his perfect curls falling into his face as he ponders his answer.
“You have been working so hard”, he says eventually. His voice is pure velvet and his eyes are so dark they look almost brown. His gaze on Daniel is heavy and loaded.
Daniel nods, hands twitching on the armrests of his chair.
“Therefore”, Armand steps towards him, Daniel’s eyes locking onto the sway of his hips, the way the fabric of the robe accentuates his tapered waist, “I thought you might appreciate a break.”
Armand comes to a stop in front of him, his knees nudging Daniel’s own. He leans down to rest one hand on Daniel’s chest, caressing it.
“Let me take care of you”, he suggests lowly, “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Daniel nods dumbly. Yeah, he’d really like that.
Satisfied with his answer, Armand braces a knee next to Daniel on the chair, leaning in to capture his mouth in a kiss. Daniel’s eyes close and his hands fly up on instinct, finding their home on Armand’s waist.
He rubs at the silk of the robe as Armand slowly and methodically takes him apart. One of his hands continues to scratch softly at Daniel’s chest, while the other firmly grasps his chin. His tongue explores every inch of Daniel’s mouth, running over his teeth one by one like a very thorough dentist. Daniel, for his part, kisses back in awed stupor, mostly letting Armand take the lead while he moans and bites at Armand’s lips, begging for a taste of his blood.
“Patience, beloved”, Armand interrupts the kiss to speak, “We are in no hurry.”
Daniel very much disagrees but knows better than to share that thought. He pulls at Armand, not strongly enough to actually move him (not that he ever could if he didn’t allow it), but Armand acquiesces and settles fully in his lap, his legs bracketing Daniel.
They kiss some more, Daniel all but licking the lip gloss off Armand’s lips. He assumes it’s flavored but considering that he can’t taste it, it’s just sticky. There’s something awfully sexy about that, as unappealing as it sounds on paper.
“Want you”, Daniel breathes against Armand’s lips, now decidedly less shiny. Shame.
Armand chuckles in response, leaning away from him. Daniel chases after his lips but is pushed back by a firm hand still pressed into his sternum. Armand’s claws dig through his shirt and into his skin. He hisses.
“Show restraint, fledgling”, Armand teases.
Reluctantly, Daniel relaxes into the chair and simply watches as Armand tears a clean line through his shirt, collar to hem, and rips it off him in one swift move. Whelp, there goes that.
He can’t bring himself to mourn the shirt, quickly preoccupied by Armand immediately beginning to ravish his throat. Daniel moans, his grip on Armand’s waist tightening at every scrape of fang. Soon, he feels small rivulets of blood run down his neck, which Armand skillfully licks up.
“Not fair”, he chokes out the words, his head hot and mouth full of cotton. He wants to taste Armand’s blood too.
Demon that he is, Armand just laughs at him. The cool breath on his neck causes goosebumps to rise on Daniel’s exposed flesh, his cock by now fully erect and chafing against the seams of his jeans. The weight of Armand in his lap is not helping the situation at all.
“Do not fret, lover”, Armand grants him another deep kiss before sitting up straight. Daniel hisses when Armand seats himself directly on Daniel’s crotch. The fucker. “I told you I would take care of you.”
Daniel is about to question what exactly that implies when Armand unties the belt of his robe. It falls open like the curtain at a grand theater, revealing a tantalizing picture underneath.
“Fucking -”, Daniel’s tongue becomes lead in his mouth when he takes in the vision presented to him.
Armand must be trying to kill him. This is not an act of kindness, nor is it caretaking, this is an assassination plot.
Daniel has been neglecting their romance for his article and now Armand has decided that he must pay for that. It’s a price he’ll pay gladly if that means he gets to see Armand in fucking lingerie. What the hell did he do to get this lucky?
It’s a simple set, but very effective. Armand’s little tits are gentle cupped by two lacy black triangles, see-through enough for Daniel to get a peek at his small dark nipples, drool gathering in his mouth. He rips his eyes away with difficulty to explore the rest of his lover’s exposed physique, admiring the trail of curly hair that starts on his chest and travels over his soft belly down to his groin, which is hidden behind more lace. Daniel can see his cock straining against the delicate fabric, already visibly wet.
Daniel is uncertain of where to rest his eyes. Fuck, he’s so hard.
“God”, he moans, “Baby. You’re so hot.”
With the grace of someone well-versed in the skill of seduction, Armand tilts his head and softly bites his lip.
“You like it?”, he asks. His tone is demure and sweet and so obviously fake. This little devil is going to be the end of him.
Daniel glares at him but doubts it’s particularly convincing with the sizeable tent in his pants and the blood sweat on his hairline.
“Do I like it?”, he grunts, “You drive me fucking insane, babe.”
A smug smile breaks through Armand’s mask. He hums, the sound deep in his chest, before he scoots backwards on Daniel’s legs and gracefully drops to the floor between them. Daniel immediately misses both the view and the pressure on his cock, but quickly forgets about his disappointment when Armand’s dainty fingers begin to work on the buttons of his pants.
Daniel’s jeans are unceremoniously pulled down along with his underwear. Armand pulls the fabric over his feet and leans forward, breath ghosting over Daniel’s hard cock, which he then bypasses entirely. Daniel barely represses a scream when Armand’s soft cheek grazes his erection before he puts his mouth on one tense thigh.
Armand wastes no time sinking his fangs deep into Daniel’s femoral artery. He moans loudly as his blood pours out of the puncture wounds and straight into Armand’s willing mouth, who swallows it greedily. Not a single drop is wasted.
“Fuck”, Daniel’s getting slightly lightheaded, “Yes, yes, yes.”
Undeterred by Daniel losing his reason, Armand continues his assault. Using both his fangs and his regular teeth, he leaves bite marks of various sizes all over Daniel’s thigh, lapping up blood where it exits his body, before moving on to the other thigh and giving it the same treatment. Blood oozes slowly from the deeper wounds, which Armand occasionally licks at like a kitten, the rest dripping onto the hardwood floor. That’ll be a bitch to clean later.
Once his thighs have been thoroughly ravished, looking like he was attacked by a wild animal, Armand deigns him some relief by stroking his cock. Once, twice, thrice, before he pulls his hand away again, leaving him wanting. Daniel sighs deeply. His wounds are healing slowly and the blood loss is making him the perfect type of woozy, transporting him into a dream-like state.
Seemingly not done with him yet, Armand latches onto his stomach next. Once again, he digs his teeth into the softness of Daniel’s lower belly, leaving angry red bites behind, blood trailing all over the fair skin and gathering in his pubes. Slowly, Armand licks up more of his blood, his tongue smooth and wet on Daniel’s abused skin, while his cock remains fully erect and neglected right next to where Armand is working his magic.
“Armand”, he gasps, “Please.”
Armand looks up at him and the picture is almost too much to bear. Daniel worries dazedly that he might come just from this: Armand kneeling between his legs clad in black lingerie with a robe falling off his shoulders, hair artfully messy and eye makeup slightly smudged. His lips are puffy and there’s a tiny bit of blood staining the left side of his mouth.
“Please what?”
Daniel doesn’t know the answer. He’ll take anything; anything Armand will give. If Armand wants to eat him alive, Daniel will get off on that no problem.
As if he can still hear his thoughts or, more realistically, simply read them on his face, Armand smirks.
He stands, leaving Daniel’s wounds to slowly knit themselves back together and elegantly perches himself on Daniel’s knee, just below where the bite marks begin. It’s a precarious position, he could topple over and fall off any second, but with his preternatural grace and strength, Armand makes it look easy.
“Have I taken too much?”, he asks now, coy and sly. Lazily, he runs his index finger over Daniel’s stomach, digging a sharp nail into the closing bite marks to tear them open again.
Daniel shakes his head. He would give Armand as much blood as he wants, even if it leaves him an empty husk.
“Mhm”, mirth is evident in Armand’s tone, “You’d let me drain you dry, wouldn’t you, beloved? How romantic.”
Smooth as a snake, he slides off Daniel’s knee again and stands in the space between his legs, still expertly ignoring Daniel’s leaking cock.
“But as your maker, I shan’t allow that”, Armand shakes his head as though disappointed in his own behavior, “You’re my firstborn, I must help you grow strong.”
The robe has by now fully slipped off Armand’s shoulders, pooling in the crooks of his elbows and exposing his strong shoulders and elegant collarbones, yet Daniel once again finds himself fully enraptured by the vision of Armand’s soft pecs in their lacy confinements.
“My apologies, beloved”, Armand continues to speak, “I have taken so much of your blood. Allow me to return some of it to you.”
Bloody spit threatens to spill out of Daniel’s mouth when Armand drops the robe to the floor in order to access the clasp of the bralette. Daniel lifts his hands to help him but is immediately reprimanded with a firm: “No.”
He grabs Armand’s thighs instead, digging his claws into the flesh for dear life and delighting at the little hiss Armand lets out when his nails penetrate the plush, brown skin.
With a heavy heart, Daniel watches the bra fall to the floor. Armand picks the robe up and slips his arms through it again before stepping farther into Daniel’s space, forcing his legs so far apart that they spill over the edges of the chair. His naked thighs make contact with Daniel’s pulsing cock in the process, which rips a quiet yell from him. Armand doesn’t react.
“Fuck, baby”, Daniel tightens his grip on Armand’s thighs, “Touch me.”
“Not yet”, Armand tells him and grabs Daniel’s shoulders, abruptly pulling him forward in his chair until he’s face to face with Armand’s freshly exposed chest, “I must take care of another one of your needs first.”
Hungrily, Daniel eyes the skin in front of him, the perky nipples sitting pretty like cherries on top of the little mounts of fat that make up Armand’s perfect tits. Daniel’s hands wander up Armand’s body, grabbing onto his waist.
“Come”, Armand drags him even closer by the shoulder and throws one of his legs over Daniel’s for leverage, hooking his foot behind his back. Daniel is absentmindedly impressed by his sense of balance. “Feed, beloved.”
Dazed, Daniel tears his gaze up to Armand’s heavy-lidded eyes. The eye shadow emphasizes his big amber eyes and makes him look even more mysterious and beautiful.
Armand rolls said eyes in mock exasperation before grabbing Daniel’s jaw with a firm hand. He directs his face to one of his breasts, which he is cupping with his other hand.
If he was in his right mind, Daniel would probably make a quip about vampires and bats, some stupid joke about breastfeeding that would have gotten him moved to the metaphorical doghouse for a week. Thankfully, he is not in his right mind and this is really turning him on.
Hesitantly, he puts his mouth to the skin around Armand’s nipple and sinks his fangs into the satiny flesh.
“Good”, Armand praises him lowly, pushing Daniel’s face deeper into his chest, “Good boy.”
Daniel whines, both at the pet name and at Armand’s sweet blood finally hitting his tongue. He sucks eagerly, swirling his tongue around the nipple and moaning obscenely at the taste.
“Is this good?”, Armand asks. His hand is now softly caressing the silver curls at the back of Daniel’s head.
How far does Armand want him to lean into this whole thing? Oh well, he’s about to find out.
“Yes, mommy.”
Armand hisses, his grip on Daniel’s head tightening. The blood flow decreases too quickly, so Daniel drives his fangs into the delicate skin again and continues to suckle at the reopened wounds. He gathers as much of the soft fat into his mouth as he can, the blood rich and saccharine on his tongue.
“Mhm”, Armand moans, “Drink your fill, beloved.”
Daniel does. He gulps down mouthfuls of Armand’s blood, drops of it escaping his mouth and running down his chin, until he can feel Armand’s thighs begin to shake.
He detaches himself from the abused skin, kissing and licking at the punctures for good measure before looking up at Armand, whose hand on Daniel’s head has gone slack.
Hazy eyes stare back at him, now a glowing amber. No words come. So, in typical Daniel Molloy fashion, he throws caution to the wind.
“Mommy?”
Armand’s eyes flash dangerously and within seconds, Daniel is dragged up and out of his chair. One of Armand’s hands is holding him by the scruff of his neck, like a cat, while the other palms himself through his panties.
Daniel watches, mesmerized, as Armand’s long fingers apply pressure to his hard cock, still mostly hidden behind delicate lace, the head peeking out of the waistband. It’s flushed a dark red, almost purple, small drops of bloody pre-cum staining Armand’s tummy and hand.
Suddenly, nails pierce the thin skin of Daniel’s neck and his attention forcibly returns to Armand’s face.
“Eyes up here, beautiful boy”, he insists.
“Yes, mommy.”
Armand hums, hand coming around to grasp Daniel’s jaw. He turns his head left and right, as though scrutinizing him, looking for something. Daniel stays still as best he can, even with his cock weeping for attention.
After a few agonizing seconds of this, Armand nods resolutely. Daniel waits impatiently for him to speak his verdict, whatever it may be, when he’s suddenly grabbed by the shoulders and turned around.
In one quick motion, he is shoved into his desk. A few papers go flying as his stomach connects with the edge of it and Armand, once again with his hand pressed into the back of Daniel’s neck, bends him over.
His chest barely misses his keyboard, landing on a notebook instead, and his head hits the wood with a loud thud.
Daniel hisses quietly through his teeth and turns his head to look over his shoulder, where Armand is looming like the sexiest sleep paralysis demon any mind could conjure up.
Armand pulls his hard cock out of his panties with the hand not braced on Daniel, and strokes himself to full hardness lazily while upholding eye contact.
It’s kind of humiliating, this whole scenario, which causes a searing heat to travel through Daniel’s veins. His cock digs painfully into the desk, virtually screaming for freedom.
Fucking hell.
“Just fuck me already”, he grunts out.
The hand on his neck pinches his skin hard before moving languidly down his back, the touch feather light and almost ticklish.
“Ah ah”, Armand admonishes him, “Is that any way to speak to your maker?”
Daniel feels more than he sees his hands being gathered and crossed behind his back, where Armand holds them in place with one bony hand loosely wrapped around his wrists.
Cheeks burning, Daniel whimpers.
“No”, he grits out, “I’m sorry.”
He takes a deep breath, holds it for a few seconds, releases it.
“Please fuck me, mommy.”
Satisfied, Armand trails his unoccupied hand over Daniel’s ass cheeks, rubbing lightly at the skin.
Sharp pain sets fire to his insides when without warning, Armand slices into the fat of his left cheek, drawing blood. He digs his fingers into the cut, lathering them in the thick redness, before using his index finger to tease at Daniel’s rim.
Daniel mewls, pushing back to intensify the sensation. He so desperately wants to get off.
But of course, Armand doesn’t make it easy for him. The grip on his wrists tightens as he’s pushed harder into the desk, his cock now effectively trapped. He screams.
“Behave.”
Glaring at Armand over his shoulder, Daniel exerts all of his willpower into staying still while Armand prods at his entrance with bloody fingers. He takes his sweet time, and just as Daniel is about to risk it and complain again, one of them finally slips inside. Daniel whines in relief.
Slowly, Armand works him open. One finger becomes two, scissoring and caressing his walls, while Daniel tries his hardest not to fucking scream. A third digit quickly joins the mix and soon, Armand seems to consider him adequately prepared, removing his fingers entirely.
Daniel watches with rapt attention as Armand spreads bloody pre-cum all over his pretty cock and fucking finally lines himself up. He pushes into Daniel with methodical swiftness, working his cock deeper inside as Daniel sweats and cries. Blood is dripping onto his desk and his papers.
“Fuck”, he moans, “More.”
Almost eagerly, Armand heeds his demand. He bottoms out and after giving Daniel barely a second to adjust, begins thrusting into him. The movements are almost delicate, matching Armand’s little get up, but they’re deep and thorough. With little effort, Armand finds his prostate.
Daniel feels his fangs extend to their full length when he does, desperate to bite into something but with his arms out of reach, he has to settle for driving his fangs into his own lip. The blood quells deliciously, some of it sucked into Daniel’s eager mouth and some making an even bigger mess of his desk.
“Good boy”, Armand praises from behind him and even though Daniel is playing at being annoyed, shivers run down his spine at the words.
Soon, he feels the muscles in his abdomen contracting, his dick still miserably imprisoned between his belly and the unforgiving wood of the desk.
“Mommy”, he gets Armand’s attention, “I’m gonna come.”
At this, Armand only drives into him even harder, seemingly intent on rendering his poor prostate to dust.
It takes three more thrusts before Daniel’s orgasm washes over him with red-hot violence. He screams out, blood spilling from his entrapped dick as his knees begin to weaken and tremble.
Vaguely, he feels Armand reach his climax as well, his blood hot and sticky where it drips out of Daniel’s hole and down his thighs after Armand quickly pulls out.
They stay like this for a long moment, Daniel still bent over his desk and Armand now leaning against it heavily right next to him, both of them catching their breaths.
By the time Daniel feels that he can stand, Armand has sat down in his chair, dick tucked back into the flimsy, drenched panties. Daniel refuses to get hard again at the sight. He’s semi-successful.
“You’re a menace”, he tells Armand. They should clean up here, salvage as much of the furniture and Daniel’s notes as they can. Neither of them moves.
Armand shrugs, a small smirk on his pretty face. Daniel wants to eat him.
“I hope this has renewed your motivation to write”, is all he says before he picks up his discarded bralette from the ground and flies out of the room, the door falling shut behind him.
Daniel groans in frustration. He really needs to finish this fucking article.