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‘-or kill yourself.’ Hair dripping, eyes piercing, the silk of his bathrobe barely hiding the hard curves of his body-
What is there left to kill? Hold the dust of me in the forgiving palms- scatter me in the wind so I might find peace in my disunion.
‘I’ll leave the pages here.’
‘Fine.’
Stop stamping me into clumps with the hardness of your foot.
Armand turns to leave; his wounds exposed- untreated.
‘Oh, and one more thing, Armand.’ Armand turns, a fraction, waiting for the whipping or the wine.
‘Dan, the Gremlin’s on his apology tour.’ Lestat calls. ‘I’m assuming he must have something in the regions of the thing he’s calling his soul for you.’
‘Lestat.’ Armand’s eyes slide to the shower, where Lestat is still lingering. He can hear restrained warning in his voice. He’s whole body is a taunt wire; he’s become paralysed by the stress. ‘Daniel- Daniel doesn’t wish to see me.’
‘Oh? The good nurse has already completed his rounds on the elderly? How kind of him.’ A cold and empty sarcasm.
Armand turns back to leave, when water floods his ears- waves screaming. The smell of fresh cotton- of the humanness of sleep- still able to cling onto his fledgling in his youth. The body’s not cold just yet.
Daniel meets him in the doorway, wearing nothing but a black faded band t-shirt and boxers. For a moment they’re sharing the space; Daniel is crowding him in. Then Armand falls back into the room, leaving Daniel to stare at him from threshold.
‘Dan.’ A faux warmness pouring from Lestat’s mouth like microwaved butter. ‘Armand- is it still Armand these days?- has come to apologise. Isn’t that nice of him.’
A scowl, embedding deeper into Daniel’s face.
‘Heard it already.’
Armand opens his mouth, jaw hot with anger-you didn’t actually let me speak-but soon closes it again with a sigh. He does not wish to argue with his fledgling. He doesn’t want to weave more dirt into the frown; he wants cool water to wash his ashes clean; he wants to disperse into the world. He wants to be held by a great expanse.
‘Humour us both, Dan. Let him try again.’
‘I doubt he has his script on him.’
‘It wasn’t a script.’ Armand says quietly, eyes jumping to Daniel. ‘But no, I don’t have my letter to you on my person.’ Eyes trained to the ground once more.
‘I’m sure you can remember it can’t you, Armand.’ Lestat encourages. It’s not every day you find words from the deepest region of your soul.’
Armand tightens his lips, feels a warmth creep up his neck.
‘Besides,’ Lestat continues, ‘From what I know of you, Armand, you were always a talented actor; quite a talent you had for memorising lines.’
Armand is silent. Feels the teeth of the waiting bear trap before his foot decides to step down into it.
‘Go on.’ Lestat prompts.
Daniel just stares.
Armand takes in a breath his body does not need; he puts his foot down.
‘Dear Daniel, of all things that walk the garden it is you I have done the most harm to, and it is to you I-’ He hears Lestat laugh. Feels him moving through the air behind him. Probably going back to coffin. Probably bored of Armand.
‘I know this is fifty-two years too late-’
Then, the trap snaps shut; Armand feels an explosion of pain on the back of his clothed thigh. He turns around to see Lestat behind him, holding his belt in his hand- folded and tense- ready to strike.
He can hear a short gasp fall out his own mouth. A dizziness in the back of his head- creeping over the brain.
‘Continue.’ Lestat says, as if nothing had happened.
‘I know when we first met-’ A second strike. This time higher up- over the soft flesh of his arse. A moan is carried out on the back of his gasp this time, the curling in of his fists. He looks up to see Daniel, saying nothing but looking at him.
‘I know when we first met, the cruelty I showed to you was unimaginable, unforgivable.’
‘Oh yes.’ Lestat says, as if he is recalling a memory of his own. ‘What is it you called it, Dan? Your weekend at Mengele’s?’
‘Stay out of my head.’ Daniel says, biting-angry and cold. But Armand knows him too well- he can see the heaviness of arousal in his jaw- the deepening of breath he has not let learnt to give up.
‘Oh, what did the bad man do to you poor Dan.’
Daniel doesn’t answer. He doesn’t have to. Lestat is doing what he enjoys most: having fun.
‘Poor Danny, so scared’ pity drenching his voice, another hit with the belt. This time Armand flinches from the pain. But he does not move away from the leather, from the correction Lestat is suggesting it might give.
‘So frightened-’ -whack- ‘and dirty-’-whack- ‘and tired -’ whack ‘and ruined.’
‘Did the bad man force you to touch him in bad places, Danny?’
No, Armand thinks. ‘I’m sorry.’ Is what he chokes out. Lestat hits him again. Armand feels his cock twitch.
Daniel must be remembering that week too, because Lestat grinds together the teeth of the trap cutting through Armand’s bones- blood staining the iron.
‘Oh- oh- not forced then. Solace, was it? Comfort in those beautiful curls? You wanted daddy’s dick in your mouth? Clothes off Armand.’
He expects his hands to be shaking, but they’re steady as they unzip his trousers, pull off the shirts he had carefully chosen to see Lestat. Practiced hands, he thinks. And then he’s standing naked in the cold room, Daniel standing in front and Lestat behind.
‘It’s not just the hands which are practiced, is it now Arun?’ Lestat says. Armand looks down, sees the hard line of his prick- erect and pointing to Daniel like a compass. His desire erupts inside him all at once.
‘Did he ever give you head, Dan? Or does he only do that for those he believes to be his superior.’
‘He…’
‘I didn’t.’ Armand says quickly, slamming doors closed in his mind.
‘Would you like him to now? He’s not bad.’
‘Would he like to?’ Daniel replies, though he looks down to Armand’s hard and leaking cock.
‘Sure, he does; it can be part of his penance.’
Armand feels a cold hand on his back, a push towards to the door. He stumbles towards Daniel, his bare feet tripping over themselves on the cold floor. He almost falls into him, but Daniel catches him by grabbing his arms with both hands. Once sturdy, Daniel puts his hands on Armand’s shoulders, forces him towards the ground.
‘Go on then,’ Daniel says, curtly, ‘show me how sorry you are.’
Once on his knees, Armand pulls down Daniel’s boxers allowing his cock to spring free. It too is hard, red and leaking, grey curls framing the exquisite picture of Daniel’s wanting.
Armand presses the softness of his tongue against the base of the tip of Daniel’s cock. Looking up into Daniel’s face as he slowly massages his tongue up and down the desiring flesh. Look at me, don’t stop looking at me. It will be different if you just keeping seeing me.
He closes his mouth around Daniel’s sex, allowing the pleasuring ‘o’ of his lips to push deeper towards the base of Daniel’s cock with every thrust of his neck.
I’m sorry. He thinks, over and over again-hoping Lestat is listening-hoping Lestat will tell Daniel about the depth of his remorse- the panicking urgency of his repentance.
Daniel groans though clenched teeth. Lestat does not look away. Armand can feel the eyes on him like the searching target of a gun.
‘What else did Armand do to you in San Francisco, Dan? The roots of this transformational trauma.’
Don’t ask him that. You have no idea.
Another door slams closed. Armand makes sure to lock it behind him this time.
‘He left one day- for hours. He kept me paralysed on the sofa.’
It was a kindness, Armand wanted to scream. And then, I’m sorry. He brings a hand to gently caress Daniel’s balls.
‘I- he came back at dusk. I was exhausted- I was- I felt like I’d finally slipped into madness.’ Daniel brought his hand to the back of Armand’s head- tightened a messy fist of hair into it.
‘He- he laughed. Told me I was in luck- that he had gone out for the cure for insanity and had brought it back to this very apartment.’ Daniel’s voice goes tight. He begins fucking deep into Armand’s throat, keeping him in place by his hair.
‘He crouched next to me on the sofa, put what he had brought into my immobilised eyeline: Dr. Young’s Ideal Rectal Dilators. A medical tool, he said, to help me.’
‘Christ, Armand. Dramatic much?’
Lestat moves to stand behind Daniel, presses his body into his. Looks down at Armand over Daniel’s shoulder. Peers at him, examines and thinks.
Armand doesn’t know where to look, now. Daniel’s eyes or Lestat’s. The ceiling or the wall.
‘But it wasn’t force?’ Lestat asked, his voice smooth and cruel-like a parasite whispering into the willing ear of the host.
Doors must be closing in Daniel’s mind too- questions he hasn’t thought of in years- the foundations must be shaking.
‘He-he took my clothes. He sat on my back and massaged my muscles, rubbed his blood into the wounds he had left on my body.’
‘Mon petit chéri, that must have been ecstasy.’
‘Yes.’
‘Mauvais homme.’ Lestat chides, slapping Armand’s face- then pressing a finger into the cheek- feeling Daniel’s cock entombed within the corpse.
I’m sorry. It’s all Armand can think, it’s all he is. He wants to Daniel’s cock out of his mouth so he can whisper his new mantra into the floor where the two men stand- direct his reverence towards their feet.
‘He let my body go free. He watched as I rubbed my cock into the sofa. He- he laughed.’
I’m sorry, Armand wants to wail.
‘He-he slipped his fingers into me.’
‘Would it help if you showed me what he did to you.’
‘Help who? Help what?’
‘It’s just a suggestion, Dan.’
I think he’ll go for it, don’t you Armand? Lestat whispers into his mind.
Armand can hear himself moan, a pathetic and needy thing.
‘Fine.’ He pulls Armand off his cock using his hair. ‘Get on the sofa.’ Armand gets up on shaking legs, walks towards the sofa which curves around the back of the bus. He lays on his front; like Daniel did all those years ago. He does not find it difficult to recreate the conditions; his want to rub his cock on the fabric comes easily to him.
Lestat and Daniel follow him; Lestat closes the lid on the coffin to sit on it- legs crossed and watching.
Daniel comes up behind him.
‘On your hands and knees now, boy. This will make you feel better.’
‘He said that to you?’
‘Yes.’
‘Could you tell at the time he was entertaining a different persona? Seeking a role reversal whilst louis was incapacitated.’
‘All I could think about was how badly I wanted to make it out of this alive.’
That’s not true, Armand wanted to say. You wanted this- I knew you wanted this.
‘You should gag him, Dan. He’s thinking the nastiest things right now.’
‘I don’t think he’ll talk. He knows he doesn’t deserve it.’
‘I envy the wall of silence between the two of you. To be forced listen to his delusion is as odious as it is nauseating. Then what did he do.’
‘He slipped a finger into me.’ Armand cries at the intrusion- he wails when the second finger enters him, body burning at the humiliation. He’s grateful for the strength of his arms, remembers a time when his little arms used to shake.
‘When he was fucking me with three, when I was crying-’
-when you were pushing back onto my fingers begging me for more-
‘He pushed the plug into me; the third biggest one.’
‘How do you know it was the third?’
‘Because he made me watch as he threw the first two away- told me I didn’t need them. Told me they would do me no good.’
‘And the fourth?’
‘He put it in my mouth.’
‘Ah, so he does need a gag after all? To give me the full picture.’
‘Sure.’
‘Let me help you, Dan. Unfortunately, I don’t keep many sex toys in my room; I don’t find that my paramours need them. We’ll have to make do with flesh alone.’
‘Works for me.’
‘What went in first, the gag or the plug?’
Daniel pauses, tries to remember.
‘The plug. I think.’
I wanted to hear you scream.
‘Very well then,’ Lestat watches from the coffin as Daniel pulls his fingers out of Armand’s hole, lines his cock up with his hole and pushes it in.
Finally, Armand breaks.
‘I’m sorry.’ He screams. ‘Please forgive me, Daniel. Please, please, please Lestat. I am- I am begging you for your mercy.’
‘Shh, shush Armand. Let’s not exasperate Daniel with your tiresome confessions. This is how you can best atone to us both.’
‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry-’ Armand breaks into sobs.
‘Pauvre petit, pauvre monstre… Je vais t'aider. I’ll help you.’
Lestat rises from the coffin lid, settles with his knees on the sofa so his prick aligns with Armand’s face. Armand can see Lestat’s desire through the softness of the bathrobe. All the while, Daniel fucks into him with a selfish brutality. Armand jostles mercilessly on his fledgling’s cock; his remorse being fucked out of him.
‘Open up for me, my love. It’s time for me to get my compensation.’ He sheds the bathrobe, lets it drop to the floor.
Armand opens his already abused mouth to let Lestat’s cock push past his lips. The largeness of it hurt his jaw and quiets his mind.
‘And after the plug was inserted? What then?’
‘He left me to go to Louis.’
‘Did he keep you paralysed?’
‘No.’ He fucks harder, spits on Armand’s pack.
‘But you kept yourself full?’
‘I was scared of what he would do if I took it out.’
‘How long did he have you wear it?’
‘Until sunrise. And then he fucked me.’ Hands, curving over the dip of Armand’s waist, nails cutting into skin.
‘And then?’
‘I can’t remember.’
You slept, Daniel. I only gifted you rest.
Lestat joined Daniel’s brutal pace, delighted at the drool tinged with blood falling out of the corners of Armand’s mouth, the tears falling out of his eyes.
Tais-toi, Gremlin. On essaie de passer un bon moment avec toi.
Je suis désolé.
Oui, tu l'as déjà dit.
When they both come (Lestat first and then Daniel), they leave Armand on the sofa, ruined used and spent.
Daniel leaves as soon after he pulls out, pulling his boxers up and not looking back.
Lestat throws his clothes at him and turns away as Armand puts them back on.
As Armand dresses, Lestat speaks about his shows, his music. Five more shows until he quits, he claims.
‘You should come to one before it’s over.’ He suggests. ‘I’m quite sexy.’