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Another minute and his knees might give out, bones grinding to dust. The mug resting on his back is still scorching but he doesn’t even register it anymore. His thighs tremble, sweat drips down his nose.
Armand, he screams, his mouth unmoving. He pushes it out, the desperation, the yearning. He knows Armand can feel it when he does this. He doesn’t know where the vampire is. The hotel room is empty, not a single living creature inside. Just furniture. Daniel’s knees throb but he doesn’t dare move a muscle, alleviate the pain. Armand gave him very strict instructions. He’s a table, nothing more. On all fours, stay still. Understand?
He doesn’t know much time passes like this. It could be minutes, hours, days. Time begins to warp, his senses dulling. The sun sets and rises over and over again within the span of a few breaths. He counts to five thousand and then stops, starts again. The room remains silent. The mug is burning directly into his skin and it seems to be getting hotter with every passing second. He starts to forget everything, where they are, what his name is, why he’s here. He only remembers Armand. Armand will come back, Armand will lift him up, Armand will feed him, Armand, Armand, Armand…
And as quickly as it started, the door opens and Daniel nearly collapses with relief, with fear, with arousal. Armand walks in but he isn’t alone, there’s a man with him.
“Oh.” He says, a laugh lining his voice. “You weren’t joking.”
Daniel’s neck itches. He fights the urge to face them directly. They walk further into the room, flitting in and out of his periphery.
“Did you think I was?” Armand’s voice is laced with amusement. He sounds almost gentle and that hurts Daniel the most, his chest throbbing with the effort it takes to hold back a sob. Why won’t he kill this stranger? Why entertain this, why can’t they just be together alone?
“He really isn’t moving.” They’re behind him now and he listens to the sound of fabric rustling.
“He?” Armand asks.
“Oh, sorry.” The man says like they’re in on some big secret. “Nice piece of furniture, I mean. Very… sturdy.”
“I know.” Armand answers, the pride in his voice going straight to Daniel’s dick. They move around to the bed now, directly in Daniel’s line of sight. The stranger is as tall as Armand is, a pretty man with delicate features. Daniel visualizes him dead, a lump on the ground with mangled limbs. His stomach turns and he’s surprised at the intensity of his hatred for the man.
He reaches for Armand’s belt, laughing at something he whispers. They both turn to Daniel, Armand smirking. It takes every ounce of Daniel’s willpower to keep himself from catching Armand’s eye. A thrill of fear goes through him at the thought of breaking one of his rules.
Armand’s belt is unbuckled, his shirt unbuttoned. He removes the stranger’s tee-shirt and starts to press gentle kisses from his neck to his collarbone. The delicate manner is grotesque. Daniel’s arms start to cramp up. Armand walks the stranger over to Daniel, right by his back so he can’t see them anymore, can only hear the man drop to his knees, the sound of Armand’s zipper being pulled down. Then, he feels two palms resting on his back perpendicular to his spine, Armand’s entire weight leaning on them. Daniel’s mouth falls open in a soundless gasp and he quickly shuts it, trembling. Wet noises fill the air and Daniel feels as nauseous as he is dizzyingly turned on.
When Armand moans, Daniel feels his world shifting, refocusing on the body leaning on him for support. He doesn’t feel the tremor in his hands, the ache in his knees. He feels Armand so intensely it's as if they merged into one body, one soul, one mind. He can feel the blood rushing through Armand’s veins, his veins, the power it contains, the thirst it promises to quench.
Armand straightens up and Daniel feels the loss of his weight so acutely he begins to weep, silent and unmoving, but his nose starts to burn and tears drip from his eyes to the carpet with increasing speed.
Armand and the man are speaking, their voices muffled like Daniel is underwater. Somewhere in front of him, he sees the shapes of their bodies get on the bed but the picture isn’t clear to him. All he can process is the feeling of emptiness on his back. The mug is gone too, probably knocked over when Armand placed his hands on him. He feels cold, useless. On his hands and knees in front of the bed, serving no purpose while Armand takes his pleasure from another human. The first tendril of doubt begins to seep in when he watches the blurred image of Armand pushing into him. His knee throbs and he moves, ever so slightly to shift the weight.
Armand stops moving.
And then, he is nothing. His eyes are shut, his hearing gone, all he can feel is the air on his face and pain, pain, pain, everything hurts, he has no body but his existence is just pain and he can’t even think, can’t breathe, it hurts, I’m sorry please, I won’t do it again I’ll stay still I’ll be better please…
And as soon as it comes, it’s gone. The air contracts, the room breathing in, and Daniel’s eyes open when it exhales. He’s sobbing now, disgusting choked noises leaving him but he can’t help it. Armand pays him no attention. He keeps fucking the man, barely contained tempestuousness still almost fully clothed, eyes shut.
He enters Daniel’s mind. He feels it like a knife through the chest, a violent penetration.
Daniel, Armand breathes into him. His voice is wrecked. He takes the man’s sight, gives it to Daniel. He watches Armand press into him, into him, and the vampire opens his eyes. His fangs slowly extend as he leans closer. Daniel can’t feel the kiss but he traces every perfect pore on Armand’s skin. He moves lower and starts to drink from the man. Daniel feels the phantom press of fangs against his skin and he is reminded of his own pressing arousal, aching against his thigh. Armand returns Daniel’s sight to him alongside a rush of pleasure, the feeling of the stranger’s blood entering his throat. He chokes on a moan, growing impossibly harder. The bedsprings creak rhythmically, the radiator groans in the background. Daniel swallows around the headrush and it hits him out of nowhere, an orgasm so intense he can’t do anything but let it roll through him, a small whimper passing through his lips.
There’s a flash of movement, the man falling lifeless to the carpet, and Armand is in front of him, finally.
“I asked you to do one thing.” His voice is steady, dangerous. Daniel doesn’t look up.
“Just a few more minutes, Daniel.” He chides. “You could have made it that long.”
I’m sorry, Daniel wants to say. His jeans are sticky and all of the discomfort he was feeling returns tenfold without the arousal to shield it.
Without warning, Armand grabs his hair and yanks his head upwards, bringing them eye to eye. “What should I do with you now?”
Daniel doesn’t answer, his heart pounding.
“Answer me.” Armand hisses.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” escapes Daniel when he opens his mouth. “I tried, I really did, I didn’t move at all when you weren’t here I swear.”
Armand’s mouth quirks then, a smile dancing on his lips. “That wasn’t my question, beloved.”
It nearly knocks Daniel over, the tenderness. He sniffles, trying to regain composure. “You can do whatever you want to me.” He promises. “I’ll do anything.”
Armand’s tight grip in his hair shifts to a lighter caress, one hand coming to his chin and another carding through his sweaty curls.
“Maybe I’ll fuck this pretty mouth.” Armand muses. “Though that wouldn’t be a punishment for you, would it?”
Daniel nods desperately, his mouth falling open. Armand actually laughs then, cruel. He shuts Daniel’s mouth with a firm palm to the jaw.
“I’ll allow you to watch.” He says. He kneels, carefully presses his mouth against Daniel’s throat and pierces the skin. He draws blood in a utilitarian fashion, only a few seconds before he retreats. He lets go of Daniel’s face and steps backwards, just out of reach. He is still hard, his cock half covered by his unbuttoned pants. He spits into his hand, Daniel’s blood pooling in his palm, and he begins to stroke.
Daniel is beside himself. He’s already hard again and he can feel his own blood still dripping from the unhealed puncture marks. He chases the fading feeling of Armand’s fangs inside him and he can barely stand it, he feels like he might die.
“Daniel.” Armand moans, his hand moving at an impossible speed. The vampire looks absolutely wrecked, head thrown back and hips moving to reach his hand halfway. Daniel wishes he could move, not even to properly touch him but just to curl up at his feet, bask in his presence. He feels so far away from him right now, the few inches of space between them colossal.
“Look at me,” Armand pleads and Daniel nearly gives him whiplash with the speed at which he twists his neck. Armand’s eyes are open again, boring into his. His mouth is bloody, fangs extended and his tongue darts out to lick the remaining few droplets of Daniel’s blood from the corners of his mouth.
“Please,” Daniel whimpers, and Armand is coming, blood splattering all over Armand’s stomach and unbuttoned shirt.
Armand stills for a moment, focused on Daniel, considering. “Come here.” He says.
Daniel crawls towards Armand, his joints screaming in protest after hours and hours of immobility. He presses his face into Armand’s abdomen, licking up his blood and revelling in the feeling. Armand pulls him back and cradles his neck.
“You don’t deserve my blood.” Armand tells him softly. He presses a kiss to Daniel’s lips, licks away his tears. “Not yet.”
“... I’ll do anything.” Daniel repeats weakly, his vision fading. He swears he can smell the blood under Armand’s skin and his mouth goes dry, wanting.
“I know.” Armand uses his thumb to wipe away the moisture on Daniel’s face. “Another day, then?”
Daniel gasps. Armand is right there, his wrist is right there, his throat, his thighs, his stomach. He could get it so easily if he just tried, he can’t wait another day…
But Armand stands up, zipping his pants back up and slowly buttoning his shirt. “I have some business to attend to.” He tells Daniel, a lie and he knows it. “I’ll be back soon, Daniel. Don’t move.”
“You bastard.” Daniel cries as Armand moves around him, his footsteps fading. He doesn’t move though, he can’t. Armand will come back. He can be good.
Behind him, obscured in the dark, Armand settles in place to watch his beautiful, obedient boy.