Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Hangover rushed through Daniel’s prefrontal cortex before the smell of coffee or sunlight peeking between the curtains had a chance.

He groaned, shoved his face into a pillow and tried to trick his aching body to fall back asleep. He could almost taste the sea from his fragmented dream before realizing that the salty water was more like bile churning at the back of his throat.

He was up in seconds and staggering into the bathroom, where the pale pink color scheme straight out of the ’70s turned out to be the last straw for his abused stomach. His lazy attempt to aim somewhere in the right direction was rewarded when his guts spilled into the stale toilet seat.

“Lessstat”, Daniel moaned and pressed his sweaty forehead against the cool tile of the toilet. “You skipped cleaning the fucking seat again, dickhead.”

The bathroom door banged open and Daniel didn’t even have to turn his head to sense Lestat’s smug aura in the doorway.

“My turn?” the fucker repeated, stretching the words out in his thick French accent. “My turn when it’s hardly me who’s pissing all over it!”

“Oh, so it’s all my fault? I’m doing all the pissing around here?”

“Well, you are the one with the limp dick, so yes.”

“Oh, that’s rich, man. You have a dick, and it’s seemed pretty limp to me the nights I’ve been forced to see you cleaning the house naked, pumped up with enough cocaine to power an entire army.”

“I know how to use mine, limp or not.” Lestat flicked his hair over his shoulder. “And I have not pissed around the seat all week as I’ve barely been in here.”

“Oh fuck off, I know you were here humping Louis’ leg on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday!” Daniel snapped and lifted his undoubtedly greenish face from the toilet. “And speaking of which, you’re fucking disgusting, clean the cum stains off the sofa next time you decide to ejaculate on it.”

“It’s my couch!”

“Which I have to sit on because you’ve fucked on every other piece of furniture in this apartment! And now on the god fucking damn sofa as well, so thanks a lot, man!”

Lestat raised a sleek hand to his chest, appalled, and opened his mouth to reward Daniel’s insolence with venomous words. But before he could get a word out, Louis’ amused voice trailed down from the kitchen: “Lestat, leave it. The boy’s got a point, don’t you think.”

Daniel wasn’t a fan of them referring to him as the boy (he was barely two years younger than Lestat and a year and a half younger than Louis – honestly, the nerve of these guys), but he’d learned to grab the olive branches Louis offered.

Lestat could get stuck on an argument for hours; he could bicker, yell, stomp his feet, tear up paper and threaten to eat it, cry or stab with the cruelest possible words he had a habit of collecting on his good days. When he clicked his mouth shut like that and rolled his eyes, Daniel accepted the victory, however unsatisfying.

Lestat slammed the door shut with enough force for it to swing open again before crawling back to Louis with a whine: “Dear Louis, you know what a pig the boy is.”

Daniel couldn’t hear Louis’ reply, as the flush of the toilet drowned out both the distant conversation and the muttering of the coffee machine.

It was the promise of coffee that finally got him on his feet and brushing his teeth. He leaned his hip on the sink and let the merciless toothpaste-stained mirror reveal the damage.

His murky green eyes were framed by dark bags and there was a trace of stubble on his narrow jaw. The worst was waiting on the top of his head; his dark curls had been rubbing against a dirty pillow the entire night, sticking out in something reminiscent of bad contemporary art. Shit – he really was kind of a pig, wasn’t he?

Daniel desperately needed a shower (he could smell not only his own sweat but the sweat of the entire clientele of the bar, plus an estimated two ashtrays worth of cigarettes), but brushing his teeth and splashing cold water on his face provided some much-needed first aid.

When he stumbled back into the living room, Lestat was curled up in an armchair, browsing his phone (and stubbornly not looking up despite the loud pat of Daniel’s bare feet against the worn plank floor).

Louis was doing the dishes; when he heard Daniel’s entrance, he glanced over his shoulder and greeted him with a smile. “So, how was it? There’s still some coffee in the pot.”

With shaky hands, Daniel poured himself a cup and downed half of it in one gulp. It was lukewarm and bitter from sitting in the pot but still tasted heavenly even through the toothpaste. “Thanks”, he breathed out and leaned his ass against the counter. “Yeah, it was alright, the house was full.”

“Got any gossip? Anybody I know?”

Daniel gulped down the rest before leaning over Louis’ shoulder to pour himself a cup of cold water.

“Gossip, no. People, some. Lily. Fareed.” He remembered the guy who had suddenly appeared in the small hours of the night; the guy with an intense dark stare that he wouldn’t tear away from Daniel. “There was this dude staring at me all night.”

“Daniel,” he says, then repeats the name silently as if to feel how it falls into his mouth. “Would you let me buy you a drink?”

“Yeah? I know him?”

“Nah, just some weirdo.”

“Eugene is full of creeps”, Louis admitted and pulled the stopper from the sink. The water rattled down the pipes. “It’s the cheap beer that lures them in. And you’re way too cherubic for the place, your face is like an invitation for every single one of them.”

Lestat gave Daniel a grim look over his phone, even though he had pretended not to listen while lazily sweeping the screen. Not a fan of Louis calling anyone but him cherubic.

“I’m six feet tall, I wear a leather jacket and I smoke and curse like a sailor who lives on whiskey and whale oil. What the fuck can I possibly do to leave hints that I’m not this dainty little thing in need of a gay awakening?”

Louis grinned and wiped his hands on a dish towel. The sunlight made his dark eyes glint and his dutifully shaven cheeks look smooth enough to compete with those of a baby. As Daniel watched him, he couldn’t help but wonder for the umpteenth time how Lestat had managed to catch him and not fumble the bag just yet. (Though it had been a close call.)

“Grow a beard. Shave off those angelic curls of yours.”

“Wear a shirt that says I’m straight, unless drunk”, Lestat suggested all too sweetly. Both Daniel and Louis scowled at that, and Louis boosted his glare with a silent shut it.

Lestat wouldn’t have known about his habit of kissing boys while drunk had it been in Daniel’s hands. Unfortunately, Lestat knew exactly because of his first-hand experience.

(Daniel lost all sense of judgement after one tequila shot, let alone three. Neither of them had ever spoken of that particular night again; it was buried in a shallow grave by a mutual agreement that Louis would never have to hear about it, even if it had happened before his time. There had been a weirdly incestuous, inappropriate vibe to the sloppy kisses they had shared that neither wanted to dwell on.)

Louis rolled his eyes and smiled at Daniel with something like regret – it was all too often left to him to act as the apologetic lackey on Lestat’s behalf. Daniel had never seen him complain about it, but he personally would’ve dumped Lestat about four times in the nine months they’d been fooling around.

Daniel knew Lestat had redeeming qualities. According to his vague recollections, he was quite good at kissing (though used his tongue far too creatively for Daniel’s taste – it was probably the French in him). And despite Daniel’s shittalk about a limp dick, if the frequent nocturnal attempts to fuck quietly were any indication, Lestat wasn’t all talk and no action either.

Sometimes the bastard could be downright gallant; he hadn’t asked Daniel for rent in all of June because he had been penniless when Pita Palace hadn’t offered the usual number of shifts. And when he wanted to, he was as charismatic as a snake, ready to hypnotize anyone with his smooth tongue and eager eyes. Every once in a while he got into his affectionate moods, which usually led to him sort of hanging onto Daniel and calling him ‘a dear friend of his’.

Then dawned a hangover morning like this when they were both moody enough to rage a war. They were like mismatched electronics that sparked against each other without a glimmer of sexual chemistry, which at least was something that glued Louis and Lestat together despite their tireless arguments.

Daniel left Lestat’s remark to its own devices and started to set up another pot of coffee, because on hangover mornings one cup would get him into a semi-conscious state at best. “I guess it was some improvement that it wasn’t an old perv or a cougar looking for a boytoy this time.”

He was oblivious to the look Louis and Lestat shared. They communicated with just their eyes and eyebrows for a silent moment that stretched on for so long that Daniel began to sense a shift in the room’s vibe.

“Okay”, Louis said in a tone that strived too hard for neutrality to be anywhere near natural. Lestat’s gaze darted between them with the intensity of a hungry tiger waking from a nap. “So what was he like, then?”

Daniel shrugged and took a swig of yogurt straight from the carton. “Dark hair. Curls. Dark eyes. Pretty young, but older than me. About your age, I’d say.”

“He’s not gay, Louis”, Lestat said, turning back to his phone as if he’d lost interest.

Yogurt, that had been in Daniel’s mouth 0.8 seconds ago, spilled all over the floor, accompanied with: “Excuse me?”

Louis groaned and raised a hand to his nose as Lestat straightened in his chair and put the phone down against his thigh. “You”, he said, waving his hand in Daniel’s general direction, as if it were self-explanatory. “Not gay.”

“Wh- huh? I mean, true, but how the fuck did you come to that conclusion?”

Lestat sighed and looked at Daniel as if he had to use the last remains of his patience to explain something so obvious. “You described that man like a shopping list. Dark hair, curls – I think he had eyes. No passion.”

“No, I mean – I know I’m not gay, man. I’m asking how would that even be on the table?”

Lestat glanced at Louis. “Oh, well, Louis has suspected you might be gay, but I wasn’t convinced. Turned out to be right, as usual.”

Slowly Daniel turned to Louis, who threw his hands up. “Daniel, I literally never said that”, he clarified, saving enough time to glare at Lestat. “I was just wondering if you…” He waved his hands as if trying to pick the right word from the air. “Might be bi?” He got it out as something closer to a whisper and accompanied with a grimace, as if fearing the reaction.

“Bi”, Daniel repeated, letting his gaze bounce from Louis to Lestat. “Bi?”

“You kiss boys when you’re drunk”, Louis said softly, finally lowering his hands as if he had made the decision that Daniel wasn’t going to kick or bite after all.

Daniel himself wasn’t fully convinced yet – he was still in shock that the two had been talking about him behind his back. His habit of kissing boys when drunk.

“Occasionally!”

“Daniel”, Louis said solemnly. “Every time.”

“Huh?”

“Oh, yes”, Lestat interjected, ever so fucking helpful. “Every time, I can prove it.”

“I, it’s just –” Daniel tried to save face and put the yoghurt carton down on the counter with an awkward chuckle. “Stop it, man, this is starting to feel like an intervention. Let me kiss boys every now and then, it ain’t that deep.”

“I’m literally just trying to get you to kiss more boys, and maybe once in a while when you’re sober as well. I’m just…” There was suddenly something vulnerable in Louis’ voice, until he fell silent and tried to offer a smile. The pitying, almost pained look on his face finally awakened a dormant rage in the pit of Daniel’s stomach. “It doesn’t have to be like that, okay?”

“Okay, and stay the fuck out of my business”, Daniel shot with an icy tone and bent down to wipe the yogurt off the floor with an old rag. Although he didn’t look at them, he could feel Louis and Lestat communicating silently again – this time perhaps less expressively.

“Daniel, I didn’t mean to – “

“Right, I’m going back to bed.” Daniel poured himself another mug of coffee and slipped into his room.

As he curled up in bed, he heard their low conversation on the other side of the wall. The apartment that had been in Lestat’s family from the early 20th century had thick stone walls and sturdy oak doors, so the words didn’t reach Daniel’s ears which lay on the bed with the rest of his body.

Maybe it was better that way, he realized as he closed his eyes and took a bitter sip of coffee. They were probably still speculating about his homosexual tendencies, which had their peculiar way of awakening whenever he got a drop of alcohol in his system.

He really didn’t need that kind of negativity to mess with his hung over head.

The beginning of September was warmer than ever before, as every online article headline, climate panel and anxious millennial on Twitter screamed. There was no place in all of France where it felt as carnally as in Daniel’s musty room and the university library. In both, the air was stagnant, as the valuable buildings from the 1600s and 1700s had to be preserved in their original glory. That meant that the only means of cooling were lazily churning fans and wet towels draped all over a naked body (Daniel relied on the latter, perhaps understandably, only within the walls of his room).

The first week of September was always the most energetic period for Daniel personally, as the times weren’t too desperate to resort to drugs for some extra motivation (they were dedicated for fun this time of the year), but the library was still quiet as a graveyard. Only a few students were huddled over their computers or an old textbook that was too heavy to haul home. The librarian offered Daniel a pained smile within her sweaty, flushed face as he wandered in to borrow Durkheim’s The Division of Labour in Society.

He was on his way straight back outside, where it might have been +32 degrees but it was accompanied at least with a slight chance of breeze, when his crusade was interrupted by just some guy sitting in the corner.

Daniel’s gaze swept past him at first, but then returned to find the guy staring. He felt his step slow and finally halt completely as he squinted his eyes and stared back.

Daniel didn’t have his glasses on because forgetting them on his bedside table – or the edge of the sink, the pocket of his leather jacket, his forehead – was like second nature to him, which meant that the face staring back at him was a little blurry. But there was something familiar, something...

And suddenly Daniel remembered. Judging by the guy’s slight smile, he caught the exact moment he got recognized.

“Daniel”, he almost purrs, swirling a gin and tonic in his glass. “Would you let me buy you a drink?”

Daniel kicked himself back into motion and turned his gaze towards the front doors. The guy had been alright – polite, friendly – but his dark eyes had the same self-assured intensity as a beast cleaning its teeth with claws. Nope.

Not to mention that his face reminded Daniel of Louis’ words the next morning. It doesn’t have to be like that.

He had nearly made it to the door when a voice trailed from behind: “Daniel, was it?“

It made him stop and look over his shoulder, as if he didn’t know who the voice belonged to. It had the same purring undertone, though in daylight (well, in the dimness of the lobby, where light flooded in only through the narrow, dust-covered windows) it was not as intimate as in a sweaty bar, where they had leaned against one another to hear over the music and chatter.

The closer the guy got, the better Daniel could make out his features; sharp cheekbones, big dark eyes and damp-looking curls that licked his long neck like those of Saint Sebastian’s.

“Yeah?“ Daniel asked as if they didn’t know each other.

(Well – they kind of didn’t. The dude had bought him a drink and they had talked some, that was it.)

The guy in question smiled like he was familiar with the rules of this game. “Eugene“, he reminded softly and took his last steps towards Daniel slowly, as if he had all the time in the world to waste. “You let me buy you a drink.“

Why did he have to phrase it like that? He made it sound like Daniel had made some fateful choice by accepting his offer.

“Right, sorry man, my memories of that night are a bit fuzzy“, he replied in a tone that universally meant sorry, I don’t remember, or if I do, how about we just let it slide. Just accept it and move on, buddy.

It didn’t make the guy flinch. “I understand. After all, I was hardly the only one courting you with drinks.“

His words made Daniel’s face flush. He hoped the lobby was dim enough to hide the pink on his cheeks or chest, which was revealed under his partially unbuttoned silk shirt (not his brightest idea to wear that in this weather; his armpits were soaking wet and the silk clung to his back).

“No, it’s coming back to me. You insisted on getting me that gin. Thanks, it was fucking terrible.” It seemed like he was forced to stick to the conversation, so he decided not to seem like an absolute asshole. His mama hadn’t raised an asshole – though his dad had tried his best to intervene. “Sorry but I really can’t recall your name.“

“Armand“, the guy replied softly and held out his hand, which Daniel accepted. The grip was firm and surprisingly cool for such a warm day, like he didn’t abide by the biological rules. “Law, fourth year.“

Daniel hadn’t remembered he studied law. Based on their somewhat brief encounter, he had to admit that the guy had the kind of confidence shady defense lawyers in crime series did. The thought made him grin.

“Right. Armand. That was it. Now, how the fuck did you, a law student, find your way to the literary students’ party and more importantly, why the hell would you stay?“

“I know Fareed.“ Armand looked at him without blinking and let his gaze fall briefly on Daniel’s lips. “And I saw something I liked.“

Oh, he was in for the kill, then.

Daniel had to give it to him – it was kind of working.

He grinned, feeling the familiar tickle in the pit of his stomach that he always got when flattered and admired. He knew he was good-looking, knew his jawline made some women go wild and the curve of his upper lip, which made him constantly look like he was in on a private joke, haunted some men’s dreams. But for seventeen and a half years of his life (a late bloomer alright) Daniel had been the weird curly-haired boy with a nose too dominant and crooked for his face, who wore round glasses and faked an asthma attack in gym class to get out of playing dodgeball. Anyone’s attention, however fleeting or insincere, still got to his head as easily as a line of Fareed’s good coke.

“What are you reading?“ Armand asked and nodded towards his armpit, where Daniel had stuffed the book (perhaps not the brightest idea considering the sweat situation – oh, he was on a roll). Daniel slipped the book out and flashed the cover at Armand, who nodded in agreement. “Durkheim. A classic.“

“You’ve read it?“

“I’ve dabbled in sociology. Course literature?“

“I mean, not really“, Daniel admitted. “I study journalism, so I should probably be reading something that wasn’t written by a guy who has been a corpse for a century.“

“I don’t think you can go too wrong with corpses who are still relevant a century later. Where are you headed?“

“Uh, just home. It’s my turn to clean the apartment.“

Armand’s eyebrow cocked slightly. “Boyfriend?“

The thought of Daniel stooping low enough to date Lestat made him burst out laughing. “Nah, man. I live with a roommate.“ After the words slipped out he realized the assumption Armand had made. “Oh, uh, and I – I’m not dating anyone. And, uh, especially men. I don’t date men, I mean.“

Both of Armand’s eyebrows peaked up even though his face had been so masterfully controlled until then.

“Oh“, he said, letting his eyebrows fall back into their place. “Sorry, I just assumed.”

“Yeah, nothing against it, it’s cool you guys can get married and stuff but I just – don’t – indulge in that.”

Daniel wanted to punch himself, he’d ended up sounding like a complete dick. It’s not like I have a problem with it, but how could you assume that of me? His face had to shine like an extravagant Christmas light in the dark. For a moment, there was an awkward beat in the conversation, which Daniel eventually covered by clearing his throat. A trail of warm sweat ran down his neck.

“I, uh, should probably get going”, he coughed up.

Armand looked at him as if he were an insect trapped on a silk pillow with a pin. A fascinating one, oily and shimmering, from which Armand couldn’t quite pry his eyes off. “Which way are you going?”

“Rue des Jardins.” His French was a pathetic attempt, but Armand didn’t even grimace. Kudos to him.

Daniel moved towards the door, Armand right at his heel. “I’m going in the same direction. Mind if I follow?” the guy had the nerve to ask.

Daniel couldn’t help but grin and turned to walk backwards to see Armand’s face. “I mean, I can’t help it if you choose to stalk me, can I?”

Armand smiled gently, like he thought Daniel was a bit dense. “Yes you can, Daniel.”

He almost lost his footing – Armand made his name sound like a sweet note that rolled off his tongue so effortlessly.

“Yeah, alright. I don’t mind. Come along.” He nudged the door open with his shoulder to let Armand be the first to face the relentless autumn afternoon.

The heat was almost more suffocating than inside, as the breeze brushing their faces was stiflingly hot. Armand unfolded a pair of round sunglasses from his pocket and flicked them up his nose while Daniel tugged at the front of his silk shirt to get it off his soggy skin even for a second.

“Aesthetics first“, Armand commented, pointing to his shirt with a hint of tease in his tone.

“You’re one to talk.“

The guy was clad in black pants and a black, long-sleeved blouse. Admittedly, the clothes did look light and flowy enough to let the breeze underneath, but Daniel personally would not have been fooled into that fit even with the promise of free shots, and he was notorious for doing disastrous things for free shots.

“I guarantee you I can take it”, Armand said, raising an eyebrow in amusement. “I’m not a pale boy from the United States of America.”

It made Daniel laugh. “Man, don’t say it out loud like that – I don’t think I’ve been caught yet. Do you?” Armand rolled his eyes, playing along the joke. “Besides, I’m from Modesto, California”, he corrected, because in his delusional mind it made a difference. “But pale and in absolute pain from this heat, I’ll give you that.”

Armand lifted his gaze to the blue sky, where not a single cloud was to be found, and smiled with a flash of white teeth. He was an almost ridiculously beautiful man, Daniel suddenly realized. He could have wiped the city off the map with a blink of his eyes, that’s how long his lashes were. “You’ve ended up far from home. Are you homesick yet?“

“Every fucking day, and not least because of my insufferable roommate. Him and his boyfriend are fucking all over the apartment like rabbits. Our apartment, might Marx say, mind you. They’re still in some honeymoon phase after the ugliest breakup I’ve ever witnessed, and I’ve had my share.”

It might’ve been a tad bit manipulative, but Daniel wasn’t above it; he let that little nugget of information out purely so Armand wouldn’t think he was some hill-billy homophobe. Look, I’m so cool with gay sex, trust me. My friends, both male, keep fucking around the apartment and my issue is with them being annoying about it, not the fucking itself. You see, I just don’t want anyone to think I’m one of you guys.

It made Armand look at Daniel over his sunglasses. “Get a new one? They don’t all fuck that loud and obnoxious, you know.“

Daniel squirmed and swapped the book into another armpit, perhaps just slightly less soggy. An eternal optimist had Louis once called him. “Maybe – just maybe – there are some redeeming qualities to the man. Like – well, fine, he’s absolutely loaded. And it’s old money. Sometimes it’s an advantage that he can’t quite remember the rent I’m supposed to pay.”

Armand’s mouth spread into a sly grin. “Daniel”, he said slowly, savoring the word on his tongue. It was getting clear that Armand really liked his name – and it was starting to have an effect on Daniel as well. He was just a weak man who, despite being straight, was not immune to having his name pronounced like that by beautiful things, be they men or women or something else entirely. “Stealing from thy neighbor?”

“What are you, a fucking snitch? You don’t look like you’re old money, you have to feel me. Class solidarity and all, man.”

“Me? It’s complicated”, Armand shrugged.

Daniel waited as they walked in silence for a while, the heat rising from the asphalt almost vigorous enough to make his knees buckle. Finally, just as Daniel was about to crack and open his mouth to fill the growing awkwardness, Armand gave in.

“No, I’m not from old money”, he said, slowly. ”But I’ve, uh, dabbled in it, I suppose. I was given a scholarship from a private donor. I was supposed to study art history, but it didn’t really work out.”

“What happened? You decided to chase the bag?”

“Something like that”, he laughed, but didn’t sound like he found the topic very amusing. “But in all seriousness, art history never felt like a passion for me, just something I did to please others. I did a lot of pleasing others back in the day – I think I’m done now.”

“Hm.” Daniel knew the feeling. A part of him had dreamed of studying creative writing, but his mother had persuaded him to choose journalism by begging, threatening and eventually using the weapons of mass destruction: her tears. Daniel didn’t necessarily regret the choice, but still, it hadn’t been entirely his own. “Explains why you like being near literary students, they must feel kind of familiar to you after studying art history.”

“I don’t like being near them”, Armand replied in a laconic way that made Daniel crack up. “I just like Fareed. The rest of them are just a bunch of airheads.”

“We do it purely for your entertainment, sire“, Daniel replied, grinning and bowing like a court jester.

He felt like an idiot the second he’d done it. Oh, he was into mimicry all of a sudden? Very normal of him.

But Armand’s eyes twinkled. “You’re not one of them, though, are you?”

“Two kinda close buddies of mine are and it’s my minor, so close enough to join in on the clownery.”

They turned onto Rue des Jardins, where the towering stone houses and sturdy oaks almost felt like a parody of every Western European city ever. The trees offered meager solace in the heat by providing shade, but the air was still stale, mixing the aromatic scents of bins that had been left to stew for a day or two too long and the marinated meat of a nearby kebab stall.

“This is where I live”, Daniel told, pointing to the white building on the left. They had a reasonably sized apartment on the fourth floor, but it had turned out to be far too small for his and Lestat’s egos.

“It was nice bumping into you”, Armand said, watching the building as if to commit it to memory. Then he glanced back at Daniel with a small smile. “I hope I’ll see you again in better company than some literary students.”

“I make no promises. As airheaded as they might be, they’re kind of my people. I’m but a loyal creature.”

Daniel headed for the stairs and kind of expected Armand to stare after him, but when he glanced over his shoulder, the guy had already moved on.

Louis and Daniel had met several times after the fateful bi-discussion (biscussion, Daniel’s ruined brain would insist), but the encounters had been coolly neutral. Louis might have been the kindest person Daniel had ever had in his orbit, but he’d been exceeding himself for the past week. He had made coffee, bought toilet paper without asking (because Lestat would never have done anything so mundane, so the rolls that had appeared in the cupboard were not his doing – and fine, yeah, Daniel never bought any either, so he guessed it was Louis’ responsibility anyway) and feigned interest about Daniel’s fourth replay of Disco Elysium.

Little by little, a delicate harmony returned. Daniel was typically quick to lose his temper, but just as quick to forgive and forget. Yet this time, the wound had hit surprisingly deep, and he couldn’t fully even grasp why. As much as he had felt the need to prove his ally-status to Armand, Daniel had never really had any problems with guys kissing guys. For fuck’s sake, didn’t the fact that he participated (while drunk) kind of prove it?

Somehow Louis’ words – the thought of Louis and Lestat talking about him and analyzing his actions behind his back – had just felt humiliating. To get back at them, Daniel swore he’d never kiss any boys again anywhere they might have a chance to witness it. 

That Friday, after a short shift at Pita Palace, Daniel came home and scooted straight for the shower to wash the rancid stink of grease off his skin. Louis was sitting on the couch typing away on his laptop and listening to jazz on Lestat’s vinyl player (because of course Lestat collected records).

“Ready for the night?” Daniel asked him, waving a shaver around his face a bit dangerously.

The door between the living room and bathroom was wide open as a sign of reconciliation; they had nothing to hide from each other, neither in the towel wrapped around Daniel’s hips nor in Louis’ shirtlessness, which was a direct result of the heat that was trapped inside the thick walls of their apartment.

“As ready as my introverted ass will ever be”, Louis replied, softly closing the laptop lid with two fingers. “Just finished my last assignment. What about you, any grand plans for the night?”

“Nah, man, no great expectations. Best parties come from being a humble servant of the night.” Daniel lifted his chin to really get to the side of his neck. “I’m waiting to get plastered, though. I really need it after this fucking week.”

Lestat slammed his door open and wandered in to join them, apparently already dressed. He was wearing a white linen shirt straight out of Pride and Prejudice and black leather pants straight out of Jim Morrison’s wardrobe, but he really made the outfit work.

The bastard. As insufferable as he was, he did look like an angel that had been left out by the gates of Heaven, perhaps because the rest of the bunch felt like he was threateningly beautiful and would steal all of Dad’s attention. His pale, almost strawberry-colored hair whipped the air as he hobbled over the sofa and buried his head in Louis’ lap.

They curled up there and babbled something to each other in quiet French which Daniel neither heard nor understood, thank God. Judging by their tones and expressions, it was just some sweet talk with a hint of obscenity, and Daniel didn’t need to be exposed to that any more than he already was. The idiots were disgustingly in love and made it everyone else’s problem.

After getting his jaw in shape, Daniel wiped his face with a damp towel, swirled deodorant in his armpits and shook his damp hair like a dog.

“We go?” Lestat asked, sprawled all over Louis’ lap and leaning back on his elbows.

“Give me a second, your little sweetheart isn’t dressed yet either.” Daniel hurried off to his room. “And you’re definitely going to get sweaty balls in those pants and we’re all gonna suffer the consequences!”

But Lestat stubbornly stomped out of the apartment in his leather pants when they were all done. They headed to Eugene, where the beer was so cheap it endangered Daniel’s liver and where Louis had promised to meet Lily.

The two were inseparable, one of those pairs who were on the same frequency from the very first meeting and could soon communicate on a secret level that no one else could get in on. They had met on their first day of uni, but Daniel assumed that their bond had grown to sibling-like levels in less than two weeks after the encounter. It had only grown stronger since the beginning of Lestat and Louis’ messy relationship. Lily had remained supportive through the chaotic phases of meet Lestat, he’s my soulmate, we’ve known for 18 hours and I can’t believe his pasty ass just fucked some white girl when I was out of town for a week and actually never mind, we’re soulmates after all and I’m ready to give him another chance so, uh, maybe don’t mention all the nasty things we’ve called him for the last few weeks.

Eugene sparkled with that Friday night frenzy that always got Daniel buzzed even before his first shot. It was lovely to feel the vibration of people’s laughter, to be encapsulated in the warmth of bodies.

Lestat ordered them the first round and even got a sincere thank you and a smile from Daniel, to which he responded with an approving nod like some fucking benefactor. At times he exuded the aura of a rich but generous fatherly figure from a Charles Dickens novel, surrounded by poor children working 12-hour days in the factory. But he did pay for the drinks, so fuck it, Daniel was ready to act his part as the coughing orphan.

Lily rushed across the bar to their table. In the span of three seconds she hung herself around Louis’ neck, kissed Lestat’s cheek and waved across the table at Daniel. “What’s up, boys?” she asked in that low voice of hers and took a sip from Lestat’s glass.

The first time Daniel had met her and Louis, he had secretly dreamed of ending up sandwiched by them. They had looked like a judgmental, aristocratic and genetically superior couple who wouldn’t hesitate to order Daniel around. Then Daniel had gotten closer to them through Lestat and realized that they were just a bunch of nerds and besides devastatingly gay, making the charm wear off a bit.

Lestat opened his mouth to reply, but Louis cut him short: “Take a seat, I have to share some gossip about professor Abadie and the student he’s screwing.”

Lily did as instructed and Daniel saw his cue; for the next hour the table would be subjected to almost incomprehensible gossip that could get messier than ugly and overpriced Instagram paintings.

He and Lestat locked eyes and Daniel almost felt sorry for the guy – he didn’t have the privilege of just fucking off from his boyfriend’s side. But Daniel had no obligations, and so he grabbed his beer and hurried to the counter.

On the small stage, a wistful young man was hunched around his guitar playing some suicide ballad. As Daniel sipped beer to the sound of lousy guitar strumming, his gaze caught a head full of dark curls by the counter. He couldn’t be sure since the guy had his back on him, but he seemed a bit too familiar to be a stranger.

Daniel stared at the back of his skull, trying to persuade him to turn around, and failed to register that there was actually a guy standing next to the curly head. And that the guy sort of noticed his hard stare and started to look a bit uncomfortable. So much so that he eventually leaned over to say something to his friend, causing the curly-haired head to turn, and suddenly Armand’s dark eyes were staring at Daniel.

With a grin, Daniel raised Armand his pint and got a raised glass of gin in return. Armand turned back to his friend, and Daniel tried to soothe the feeling that curled in the pit of his stomach, ominously reminiscent of disappointment.

Some part of him had wished that Armand would leave the cute blonde and come greet him. Wasn’t he, after all, the guy Armand had chased not two weeks ago?

And just as Daniel was ready to slog back to Lestat’s table with the tail between his legs, his heart almost did a blank as Armand hopped down from his bar stool, patted his friend’s cheek and headed towards Daniel.

Shit, maybe manifesting really did work.

“Hello, Daniel”, Armand said when he got close enough and looked at Daniel discreetly from head to toe. Daniel didn’t know what he thought of his worn Jefferson Airplane band shirt and shabby jeans, but Armand’s eyes smiled when they caught his. “We’ve got to stop meeting at places filled with lit students, I’m getting a reputation.”

They had met in the doorway of Fareed’s party last Wednesday – Daniel had been about to get in as Armand had been leaving at midnight. They had been stuck there shooting the shit for what had felt like hours before Armand had finally left, apparently reluctantly, to meet a friend.

“What, a reputation for having good taste?” Daniel grinned. “And you’re getting so obsessed you’re seeing literary students everywhere. Tell me, are you schizophrenic, Armand? How many are you seeing right now?” 

“Oh, I don’t know, I’d start counting from that corner.”

Armand nodded towards a 15-headed group that had conquered the corner to babble and laugh. The average age was on each side of 20 and the majority was dressed in vintage silk shirts, fanny packs, golden nose rings and worn sneakers. Daniel even spotted a few perm mullets.

“Well. Shit. I know when to admit my defeat.”

“That’s a desirable quality in a man. So, how’s Durkheim coming along?“

“I mean – it’s interesting, for sure. I just haven’t got very far yet.“

There was something like the ghost of a smirk on Armand’s lips. “No? How come?” He gave a pregnant pause. “Does Fareed have something to do with it?“

“What? No, of course not.” Daniel grinned and feigned sniffing a line off the air. “I’ve been home studying all week.”

“A good boy then, are you?”

Oh. Okay. Daniel was glad he hadn’t had any beer in his mouth because his jaw did drop, just a little.

“Why yes. How’d you even suspect anything else. I have morals, man. And also a load of student loans that I wouldn’t risk by doing anything other than studying in my free time. Anyway!” Before Armand had time to throw a jab at his certainly flimsy morals. “Were you late from meeting that friend of yours, back on Wednesday?”

Apparently not. Armand passed the topic quickly, but shared more of his long week and the bitter gin in his glass, which he intended to make the most of.

Conversation flowed with an ease Daniel was familiar with, because he was a people person after all. But even by his standards, the connection between them was weirdly natural, like in good time they perhaps could try having telepathic conversations like Lily and Louis.

“Who’s your friend?” Daniel asked, nodding his head towards the blonde who was stuck at the counter and pretended not to spy on them. “That the one you were meeting? Kind of rude of you to leave him like that.”

For me, he wanted to say, but he didn’t need to. It lingered in the air.

Armand barely took a glance at the man before turning his attention back to Daniel. “Just an acquaintance”, he said, tilting his head slightly. “I’m now where I most want to be.” He had that familiar look on his face, like he was examining every micro-expression on Daniel’s face. “Are you here alone?”

Daniel waved in the direction where Lestat, Louis and Lily were sitting and was only mildly surprised to find that they were all looking at him and talking in low voices. At the sight of his gaze, Louis raised his hand and flashed a smile. The man was a talented fucker, but not in the challenging field of fake smiling.

“My roommate, his boyfriend and his boyfriend’s soulmate”, Daniel introduced in order. “And they were probably just talking about me. And you. You and me.” Louis raised a hand to his mouth as he leaned over to say something to Lily, minimizing every risk of his lips being read. Didn’t matter, Daniel had become a body language expert by watching hours of YouTube and knew that they were analyzing every piece of evidence of his potential bisexuality. “About us, that is.”

“Hm? What about us?”

But Daniel didn’t elaborate. He shook his head, destroyed the remaining traces of his beer and ordered another.

The conversation kept flowing as Daniel’s glass kept getting lighter. He was starting to get buzzed, not just from the people this time but the booze as well. He’d barely eaten all day and was drinking too damn fast, even for his well-trained liver. Armand was still swirling the same old glass of gin against the counter and Daniel found himself staring at his long, kind of dainty fingers. He wore a few gold rings, plain but elegant.

The noise level started to rise as the clock ticked and alcohol pumped through people’s veins. The young man strumming his guitar was forced to diminish to a distant buzz – not even the fact that he almost gobbled the mic helped his voice carry out.

In the middle of Armand’s sentence, Daniel leaned towards him and almost yelled over the noise: “Hey, you mind if I ask you something?” Armand raised an eyebrow, which Daniel’s tipsy ass took as a permission. “You looked surprised when I said I didn’t like men.”

Daniel hadn’t realized before he pulled back that his heart was pounding.

Armand looked at him and a small, slightly crooked smile lifted a corner of his mouth. “Yes?”

Daniel thought he’d been pretty fucking clear in his vague question that had been disguised as a statement. “Yeah.” He gathered some drunken courage to finish the mission. “I mean. How come?”

“Daniel. You really want to know?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t. Come on, man.”

“Well.” Armand gave him a glance before chugging the gin in his glass, causing the bitter smell to whisper against Daniel’s face. “You looked at me like you were just waiting to be picked.”

“Oh.”

Daniel could feel his face flushing hot, and he was man enough to admit it had nothing to do with the beer or the air that rivaled in humidity and heat with the outside world.

Armand looked at him and satisfaction crept into his expression. “That’s it”, he said, studying Daniel’s face. “That’s the face. Big doe eyes and a willing mouth. Kind of needy, like you’re just waiting for someone to tell you what to do.”

Daniel’s heart beat so fast he could feel it in his hot fingertips against the sticky pint. He swallowed, a ridiculously loud sound which fortunately couldn’t be heard over the chatter, though the awkward rise and fall of his Adam’s apple had to be painfully obvious. He couldn’t turn his gaze away until Armand broke the eye contact and raised his finger to the bartender.

Daniel felt like saying Armand couldn’t just go around saying something like that, but of course he could. Of course he did.

“I, uh”, he started, uncertain about what he was about to say but feeling the pressure to open his mouth. He stared at Armand’s fingers as the guy picked up his fresh glass of gin and paid it with a swift movement of his credit card. He made even that look elegant. “My roommate’s boyfriend is convinced I’m bi.”

Armand looked at him, suddenly curious. “Are you?”

“Oh, absolutely not. I just like kissing boys when I’m a bit drunk.”

“Right. Like any regular straight boy.”

“Exactly! You get it, man.“

Laughing, Daniel took a big gulp from his pint. He recognized the sarcasm in Armand’s tone, but he wouldn’t be bullied out of his stance. If drunken girls could kiss each other in restrooms (according to rumors), he would’ve liked to believe that guys could swap some saliva samples without being immediately thrust into some category.

Armand looked over his shoulder and reported back: “Your roommate’s boyfriend is staring at us. I think he’s analyzing your every move and expression to gather some evidence.”

“Yeah, I know. He already gave me an intervention last weekend.” Daniel rolled his eyes. An idea popped into his head (probably influenced by two and a half pints) and without any second thoughts he leaned in closer: “Hey, man, you wanna play a game?“

Armand turned to look at him. “Sure. I’m really fucking good at games.“ He grinned like a shark that had gotten a whiff of blood in the salty seawater.

Daniel woke up with a dry mouth that was the result of an unholy union of drinking six pints and sleeping with his mouth open. He was about to cough up his lungs and choke on them before he managed to get a big gulp of water from a glass that had been left on his bedside table. It wasn’t his doing, because the drunk Daniel hated the sober Daniel and would never have had the required level of empathy – and besides, he’d been plastered when he’d gotten home, barely finding his way to bed. Daniel promised to make it up to Louis by finally letting him off the hook and promising to put the pointless biscussion behind them. Fuck, intervention. Biscussion was literally never going to be a thing.

The window was open, thrusting in a whiff of hot air and the bustle of the street. The sound of cars was joined by some distant rock music from the living room.

Daniel rolled onto his side and opened his eyes. His room bathed in sunlight; a messy desk with Mr. Durkheim folded impolitely in half and some wandering cigarettes looking for a home. A chair on which he’d piled both clean and dirty clothes because he chose to live on the edge. Lou Reed gave him a disapproving glare from the wall, although he out of anyone had no right to.

From the bedside table Daniel grabbed his phone, the screen of which was shattered – thankfully not from last night. He just hadn’t been able to repair it after the summer’s financial catastrophe that had left him living for weeks on cigarettes, porridge and Lestat’s generosity.

The screen was flooded with notifications of new WhatsApp and Instagram messages, including a cat video sent by Louis with the request to help him persuade Lestat to get a cat and Lestat’s less kind message at 02:08 telling Daniel to STOP FUCKING SINGING T. REX YOU SOUND LIKE A BABOON GO TO BED.

But his interest was piqued by a WhatsApp message from an unknown number with a mysterious profile picture.

Let’s kick the plan to motion. How’s your Tuesday looking?

Daniel clicked the profile picture just to find himself staring at Armand clad in a long, gray wool coat. The guy looked over his shoulder at the camera with a serious, kind of stern look, as if the person taking the picture was some irritating glitch in his daily life. It made Daniel smile and zoom in on his small, blurry face.

The plan.

Memories came flooding back in.

Daniel was pretty sure he and Armand had cooked up a plan with enough maliciousness to make some true crime podcasters pale. The point had been faking a relationship and making Louis believe that he had been right to inspect Daniel’s sexuality, just for Daniel to eventually laugh at his naive little face.

The idea had amused them throughout the long evening to the point that when they’d left, Daniel had practically hung around Armand’s neck and explained various long and complicated plotlines to him like a feverish conspiracy theorist. But suddenly the certainty of his mastermind qualities had worn off and he wasn’t quite so sure about the plan anymore – his gaze fell on the tall glass of water that had been left on his bedside table.

Hey man, I just woke up and I’m looking into the abyss to meet my idiotic, drunken reflection… I don’t know if the plan is such a great idea after all, maybe we should put it on hold? Sorry

Daniel didn’t even have time to close the chat before Armand already showed up. It took the guy a short moment to read the message before he started typing back.

I personally thought it was hilarious.

Daniel couldn’t help but grin, even if he felt a bit like grimacing.

Don’t you think it’s a bit cruel?

Yes, and? came the immediate reply.

Right, let’s call it off. Sorry and thanks for your support, you have good taste man

Whatever you say popped up in the top of his screen before Daniel put the phone down and emptied his glass of water. That finally motivated him to wrestle himself out of bed and rush to the toilet.

He got out with fresh teeth and an empty bladder to meet Louis and Lestat cuddled up on the sofa. Lestat played Candy Crush and Louis read some article on his phone. The vinyl player was blasting The Velvet Underground, an undeniably brilliant band, but a bit too much for Daniel’s fragile skull that was plagued by hangover. He went to turn the volume down, but the lovebirds didn’t even look up.

“Good morning”, Louis greeted but kept his eyes firmly on the screen. Which was more than fine – Daniel wasn’t a sight to behold.

“Morning”, he grunted and poured himself a cup of coffee. He gnawed on some piece of bread (which had probably been left on the table last year based on the stone-like quality of it) and jumped to sit on the counter. “When’d you guys get home?”

“We walked home together”, Lestat pointed out, still concentrated on making his addictive little game tinkle. Slaves for their phones, the lot of them.

“You seemed to be having a good one”, Louis said and sort of wiggled his eyebrows with some mysterious suggestion. The topic seemed finally interesting enough to distract him from his phone. “Who was the guy you were chatting up all night?”

“Oh, him? That’s just Armand. We ran into each other at Eugene like a week ago or something. He was the guy who wasn’t being all weird about getting me a drink.”

Though he had been a bit weird, hadn’t he. Literal proof of pretty privilege, Daniel feared.

The words made Louis jump up on the sofa so violently that Lestat, perched on top of him, almost fell. The blonde muttered a selection of French curse words and crawled to the safer side of the sofa.

“That’s the guy?” Louis asked. “The dark hair dark eyes guy? That was him?”

Daniel nodded with his mouth full of coffee, incapable of speaking.

Louis stared back at him, his brown eyes puzzled. “Lestat, are you hearing this?” He stubbed his toe on Lestat’s bare thigh, but didn’t even bother to wait for his reaction. “Well, did you two make out? The signs were there, you know. He’s kind of your type.”

“No, man”, Daniel laughed. “It’s not like that. Wait, what’s my type?”

Louis squinted his eyes. His toe was still poking Lestat, who had deemed the conversation too tedious to be dragged away from his game. “You guys got along really well though.”

“I mean, yeah. He’s cool, I can’t deny that. He studies law but he’s got history with arts and sociology. Really smart.”

“Really handsome”, Louis purred.

His words caused Lestat’s head to bob up and his eyes to narrow, but even that didn’t make Louis shy away from the conversation – oh, he was in it for real.

Right. Daniel was an idiot, but he wasn’t an idiot. He knew what Louis was up to. He squinted his eyes, preparing himself for the staring competition. This was about life and death, no less. “I guess he fits the beauty standards – wouldn’t know, since he’s a dude and I’m kinda not into men.”

Louis smirked as a sign that he thought he was reading Daniel like the Sunday paper. “Handsome”, he repeated slowly. “Smart. Studies law. Kind of kissable, right?”

Lestat had finally given up on Candy Crush and leaned back to take the show in.

“I don’t know.” Daniel tilted his head feigning innocence. “Sounds like you’ve been thinking about it, Louis.”

“Me? No, I was just wondering. Lestat, did you think he was handsome?”

“The guy hitting on Daniel all night?“ Lestat asked. Daniel tried to keep his face from falling, but judging by Louis’ smug expression, he didn’t quite succeed. “I don’t know. Someone might think so. I suppose he was mid.”

Daniel wanted to say that Armand was fucking divine even by the high standards of those two. Lestat literally could have worked as a Balenciaga model and Louis neared perfection, but next to Armand they looked like a bunch of nobodies picked from the side of the street.

But that would probably have been classified as evidence in Louis’ case, so Daniel kept his lip tight.

The Velvet Underground album dragged to its end and the record player was left spinning until Lestat finally got up to feed it another one. Daniel slowly turned his gaze from Louis because all that staring hardly relieved his hammering headache.

“Give it two months”, Louis said softly, almost like he didn’t want to be heard. But when Daniel looked at him, the corners of his mouth were turned upwards and there was a devilish twinkle in his eye. “I bet you’ll crack and crawl to my door for dating tips.”

“Why not my door?” Lestat complained but received no attention. If he really thought Daniel was going to follow suit of his serial flirting and temper tantrums, let alone seek advice, he was thicker than he looked.

“Oh, you wanna bet, do you?” Daniel jumped off the counter.

Louis shrugged and made an expression that tried to convince Daniel that he was entirely indifferent to the idea. Whatever, man, his eyes seemed to say, but there was a mischievous look underneath, which made the corners of his eyes gleam with laughter. He was an absolute snack and he drove Daniel fucking mad.

“Alright, fuck it. Let’s bet on it, then. Two months you said?”

Daniel staggered over to him and held out his hand, which Louis took.

“Louis de Pointe du Lac, this’ll be the ruin of you.”

When Daniel returned to his room after two cups of coffee, he grabbed his phone from the bedside table and texted Armand: Hey, so – was your Tuesday free?

On Tuesday night, Louis sat unsuspecting at the kitchen table when Daniel sneaked out of his room. By his (admittedly low) standards he was properly dressed up; he had combed his hair, slipped himself into a green silk shirt and put a single golden ring on his left earlobe. Louis kept insisting it made him look like a ripe homosexual fruit waiting to be picked, which – yeah, perhaps true, but it just made the accessory now more appropriate than ever.

Daniel had to flaunt himself a bit before Louis looked up from his hummus sandwich and the magazine he’d been leafing through, but once he did, his gaze remained fixed on Daniel.

“Well you’re looking good. Like suspiciously so. You going somewhere?”

“Yeah, kind of”, Daniel replied, aiming for a casual tone as he laced up his worn-out Dr. Martens’ boots. “I’ll grab some coffee with Armand.”

Louis furrowed his brows, not immediately remembering why the name felt familiar, before his eyes widened and he dropped the paper.

“You’re going out with Armand?” he repeated, his eyes feverish. Daniel could almost see him vibrate with excitement. “Whu-, wait, how’d this happen? You didn’t say anything!”

“It’s not that deep, man.” Daniel tousled his curls in front of the mirror. “We changed numbers last Friday and he invited me out.” Through the mirror he could see Louis staring at the back of his head as if trying to reach all the way in. “We just hit it off and wanna meet over coffee. As friends. Let me live, you demon.”

“Riiiight”, Louis said, grinning in that shit-eating way of his that suggested he didn’t buy Daniel’s shit for a second. “I am, Danny, I’m letting you live. Send my warmest regards to Armand, maybe we’ll see more of him some day.”

“Yeah, I’ll let him know you called him handsome.”

Louis glanced at Lestat’s door, which was mercifully closed (Lestat’s hearing was on a bat frequency if he even sensed Louis complimenting another man’s appearance) and muttered: “Don’t play with fire, boy. That’s my ass on the line.”

Rolling his eyes, Daniel slipped a leather jacket on, swung the keys around his finger and got out. It was half past six and the cool veil of autumn night had fallen outside, even though the air still held some of the day’s lingering heat. The street was bursting with students, who had already gotten themselves tipsy, and office workers, who desperately tried to stretch out the evening so the next day filled with a pointless bullshit job wouldn’t start quite yet. It made Daniel feel all the more free; just for tonight, he didn’t have any deadlines or strings attached.

The place seemed crowded, but Daniel still managed to spot Armand through the window. The man was focused to tapping on his laptop, but his head bobbed up when Daniel rapidly knocked on the window. He gave Daniel a smile through the glass and gestured towards the table where two mugs were already waiting.

The air in the room was stagnant. Various thick smells mixed into an unflattering cocktail – cinnamon rolls, coffee, sweat and musky fragrances of thirsty college dudes who were hoping to get laid.

By the time Daniel got himself to Armand, the man had already stood up and captured him in a hug. After many days of plotting (which had often side-tracked from Durkheim to Disco Elysium to their shared gym class trauma), their bond had undeniably grown so thick that it would’ve been weird not to hug. There hadn’t been two hours in a day that they hadn’t texted each other.

Daniel wrapped his arms around Armand, although he was unable to stop himself from smacking Armand’s back like an awkward jock who couldn’t risk anyone questioning his sexuality. What was actually wrong with him, he knew better than to feel emasculated by hugging other dudes.

The hug itself was tight and suffocatingly hot, but in a pleasant way. Armand was just a hair taller than Daniel, just enough to make them fit together like pieces of a puzzle, his scent drowning the chaos in the room. He smelled like cedar wood, fresh and somber at the same time, and to his shame Daniel took a long and loud sniff of him.

When Armand pulled back, he was grinning in a way that suggested it hadn’t been left unnoticed. “Good to see you. How’s it going?”

“No complaints, man.” Daniel found his seat on the table and looked at the coffee mug planted in front of him. “Shit, you ordered for me? You paid for it and all?”

“Yeah, I’ve figured you’re no Rockefeller. It wasn’t much.” Armand studied him. “I wasn’t entirely sure how you take your coffee. How’d I do?”

Daniel took a sip, feeling a weird tingle at the upper part of his stomach, like heartburn or something.

“Fuck. It’s really nice. It’s either black or with a splash of milk. You been spying on me?”

Armand grinned. “Just a lucky guess. So – should we get straight to business?”

“Right. I planted some seeds in Louis on my way out. He says hi by the way, and hopes he’ll see more of you in the future.”

Armand raised an eyebrow. “You think he will?”

“Yeah, you’ll have to come visit some day. How’s your next week looking?”

“I’m all yours, Daniel.” The way he said it, looking at Daniel with his head tilted, made Daniel’s spine go all pins and needles. “But before we go all the way, I feel like I really need to ask. Daniel – how far are you willing to take this?”

“Uh, I haven’t given that much thought. Let’s keep it casual, yeah? Just see where this leads?”

Armand sipped his coffee and pursed his lips. “Mm, no, I don’t think that’ll work for me. We would both be more comfortable with some boundaries.”

“You make it sound like we’re negotiating kinky business”, Daniel grinned, trying to lighten the mood.

Armand gave a pause that lasted long enough for Daniel to catch the drill.

“Oh.” He licked his lips, suddenly nervous. “Right, of course. So you’ve got experience of that. Gotcha.”

“So, what would be a hard pass for you?” Armand asked, almost gently, like he could smell the tension in the air. “Or what would be all right?”

Daniel scratched the back of his neck. “Well, I do kinda kiss a lot of guys, I guess. Although not half as many as Louis and Lestat claim! But, you know – kissing is fine for me.”

The thought of kissing Armand was surprisingly fine. Actually really fine.

Okay, buddy, let’s get you drunk first, Daniel thought and took another sip of coffee to drown the ascending thirst.

“With tongue?”

Armand rubbed the handle of his mug with his thumb, a movement that caught Daniel’s attention. There was something intimate, almost erotic about it.

“Yeah, that won’t be no issue. However, I’d like to apologize in advance for my messy kisses. I tend to get all sloppy when I’m drunk.”

The other corner of Armand’s mouth quirked up. “I’m sure I’ll survive. So, am I right to assume that anything less than that is okay? Like hugs or holding hands, whenever we get to that stage?“

“Well, I’m not the biggest PDA person, but sure. It just can’t come too soon”, Daniel warned. “Louis thinks my ass is so deep in the closet and self-denial that you’ll have to pass through Narnia into another dimension to fetch it. So really, we should let this thing simmer – start as an innocent friend crush and a drunken kiss, and then progress to an intense romance.”

Armand nodded. “Yeah, I can give you an intense romance.”

“I’m sure you’re the right man for the job. So, uh, how about your limits?”

“I’m not the one pretending to be bi to fuck with my arrogant friend. I’m the only incurable queer in my year among sad beige heteros, so I have no problem kissing straight boys”, he replied. His voice was soft, but Daniel still feared it might carry to every single table in the room. “Or sucking and fucking them. Matter of fact, not even tenderly loving them.”

A quick glance around proved that no one was interested and Daniel was just an ignorant moron. He tried to laugh, even though the words kind of gnawed at him. Something made him want to separate himself from the group of dull straights Armand had described, but that was where he belonged. Right into the sad beige crowd, where he had never fit in with his DnD obsession and his snarky tongue and his innate hatred of sports.

“Right, yeah. Good to, uh, know.”

Armand lowered his gaze to the mug. It might’ve been the first time Daniel saw a crack in his confident shell. He swallowed so hard Daniel could see it until eventually raising his dark gaze.

“But Daniel... I really need you to be honest with me. If there’s anything you don’t like, or if you – uh – if you get any iffy feelings, you should tell me. I need to know.”

Daniel nodded violently, wanting to assure Armand of his sincerity. “Yeah, sure. Right back at you, man, you have to tell me too. Pinkie promise?”

Armand smiled, but didn’t curl his pinkie around Daniel’s, which made him feel like he was three years old. Pinkie promise, Jesus Christ.

Luckily Armand guided the conversation on by throwing him a question about Durkheim, although Daniel had little news on the guy. He hadn’t opened the book since their last conversation – the man might’ve earned his reputation, but he still was dull as fuck.

It was really easy to talk to Armand, almost unnervingly so. They got new cups of coffee (which Daniel tried to pay for, but Armand wouldn’t hear any of that – oh, he was just lavished with riches) and came out of the closet as caffeine junkies. Daniel added that he could drink sometimes seven cups a day, but Armand topped that with his ten, which, yeah, was getting a bit out of hand.

Armand confessed to being addicted to true crime and monologued for a good fifteen minutes about his favorite podcast, the latest episode of which had dealt with an exceptionally brutal dismemberment murder. Just your typical case of a cheating sociopathic man getting rid of his pregnant wife while trying to arrange a new marriage, Armand described nonchalantly.

But that whirred them into another heated debate about why anyone would turn to murder to solve a marital crisis instead of trying the usual way; getting kids, fucking them irreparably up, getting estranged from your partner and eventually turning to alcoholism. Still, they ended up advocating for their preferred methods of getting rid of their potential spouses.

(Armand’s choice of weapon was bleeding them dry, dismemberment and dumping the body parts in the sea. Daniel swore by shooting and shallow graves.)

As the clock neared nine and the employee behind the counter seemed increasingly ready to resort to violence to drive them out, Daniel finally started stretching to insinuate his need to return to the men of his life.

“Can I walk you home?” Armand asked, getting up on his long legs and sliding a leather briefcase on his shoulder.

“Oh, so the courtship starts now. You’re diligent. But sure, walk me home. You live around here?”

Armand seemed to consider before going for the truth: “No, my place is in the opposite direction. I just really want to walk you home, if that’s fine for you.”

Daniel couldn’t help but grin. “A proper loverboy – I didn’t think I’d live to see this day after all the complaining Louis has done about gay dating.” They got off the table and Daniel waved his hand to the employee, who tried to stare them to pieces with sheer willpower. “You live alone?”

“I’ve got a roommate, this Patrick Bateman-esque lesbian from law school. But she’s close to graduation and mostly hangs out at her girlfriend’s place, so I practically live alone.”

“God, I wish Lestat would be like that. I know Louis’ apartment is empty half the time so they would have the entire place for their debauchery, but for some reason they still feel the compelling need to fuck on our couch during the four minutes I’m out getting cigarettes.“

“Four? That’s ambitious.”

“No, just a regular missionary for them, I’m afraid.”

Armand held the door for Daniel as they stepped out and headed for Rue des Jardins. Darkness had finally fallen all over the city, but there was no blanket of stars to be found in the sky. The air was still hazy, filled with exhaust fumes and the smell of hot asphalt that had been trampled by the townsfolk. The smell wasn’t exactly pleasant, but somehow familiar. Still, Daniel tried to detect the North Star among the murky sky and longed for a crispness in the air.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking but were you, uh, born and raised here?” Daniel asked suddenly, gesturing vaguely around as if Armand might need some clarification.

“No, can’t say that I was.”

“Right. You like it here?“

“It beats being at home, but that’s not saying a lot.“ Armand laughed mirthlessly and shoved his hands into the pockets of his loose, high-waisted pants. The leather bag swaying on his shoulder finished the look, made him look like he could’ve stepped down a catwalk run themed ‘90s nerd haute couture. All he was missing were slutty little glasses dangling at the end of his magnificent nose.

“Sooo – where’s your home? Like home home? Where’d you go for Christmas?”

Daniel immediately regretted asking, because Armand stiffened and pressed his mouth into a tight line. For a tense moment, the silence hung between them, Daniel frantically trying to come up with literally any topic off the top of his blanking mind. Until Armand finally caved in: “All over the place, I guess.”

Daniel was so relieved at not being left to wallow in an endless awkward silence from which there would’ve been no return to normalcy that his mouth started just spitting shit he hadn’t even known was lurking inside his brain: “Cool, man, that’s so cool. You wanna know something? I’d never left California before I got here. Never. Like literally, can you imagine that this was my first trip outside of California, and I fucking moved here. I mean it’s fine, I’ve had a good time, but I’m not going to stay. The boy can leave the Golden State, but...“

His rant made Armand relax again and the situation crawled closer to what it had been before Daniel’s idiocy. What had Daniel even done to make the situation go to shit, he didn’t know – but it had to be something grave judging by the reaction.

When they’d almost reached Rue des Jardins and were in the midst of an in-depth discussion about spaghetti western, because Daniel had been obsessed since he’d seen The Good, The Bad and The Ugly at the tender age of six, Armand touched on the awkwardness.

“Hey, I’m sorry by the way”, he said, slowing his steps as they were nearing the familiar building. “I didn’t mean to get all weird about my, uh, home. I was just surprised that you asked.”

Daniel concentrated on keeping his mouth shut and looking at Armand, trying to ooze empathy. He hoped his big eyes were giving I may be a straight jerk with diagnosed ADHD, but I can also listen.

“It’s a long story, and not an interesting one. I’ve lived all over Western and Southern Europe, but I don’t really... consider any place home, if that makes any sense. There’s no place on Earth where I’d feel welcome spending Christmas. I mean, if Christmas actually meant anything to me.”

“Oh, right. No but I think I get it”, Daniel said. They’d reached the building and he leaned against it. The warm air it had inhaled during the day radiated against his back. “I mean I’d never left California like I said, but my mom’s grandparents moved to New York in the early 1900’s, so I guess I can sort of imagine what that would be like. Not having a proper home.“

Armand smiled and finally met his gaze. He had an incredibly soft expression in his eyes, which tickled Daniel in places he hadn't known even existed.

He thought about hugging Armand. He thought about inviting Armand up. He almost thought about a few abominable things he would’ve liked to do to the guy, but managed to control his brain in time.

“I’d invite you up”, he said, suddenly a little breathless, “but it’s probably too soon. In terms of the plot, I mean.”

Armand nodded in agreement. “Yeah. From what you’ve told me, I expect Louis to wait for you in the kitchen like you promised to be home by nine with your hymen still intact. He might just check under your skirt to see that you haven’t been running around with strangers.”

Daniel laughed and shifted awkwardly, ready to be invited in for a hug, but not quite daring to cross the line himself.

Armand raised his eyebrow, clearly holding back a smile. “See you later.”

“Yeah“, Daniel breathed out, and Armand enveloped him in a tight hug.

Daniel watched his receding footsteps accompanied with a pounding heart; Armand was digging for his Air Pods while continuing the casual, catwalk-like strides. Daniel felt like he should’ve been somewhere else, in some truly ancient city, where his smooth face and dark angelic curls wouldn’t have so thoroughly overshadowed the surroundings.

But Daniel was glad he was here.

Louis was waiting for him, just as Armand had suspected, lying on the sofa petting Lestat’s hair and watching TV. They were in the middle of the latest episode of John Oliver and Daniel accompanied them on the sofa after pulling his boots off.

“How’d it go?“ Louis asked, not quite managing to hide the forced calmness in his voice.

“It was fine.”

“You were out late”, Louis continued, giving Daniel glances out of the corner of his eye.

“Where’d our boy go?” Lestat raised his head, looking totally zonked out by sleep and a joint, the faint smell of which still lingered in the air. The reddened whites of his eyes made them look even bluer than usual.

“Our boy was seeing Armand”, Louis replied at the same time as Daniel replied, very much calculated: “Seeing a friend.”

Their eyes met, Louis’ hand pausing on Lestat’s undoubtedly silky, conditioner-soaked locks.

“Louis, give up,” Lestat sighed, able to detect the tension even with his stoned senses. “There’s not a queer bone in the boy, and besides, that man of his is entirely mediocre.”

“It doesn’t take any bones, Lestat, just temptations of the flesh”, Louis almost sang.

“Mediocre?” Daniel interrupted, leaning over to kick Lestat with a stinky foot that had sat in his boots for hours. The defense of Armand’s honor was partly for the sake of the plot, but it was mostly sincere annoyance that Lestat would’ve dared to claim something like that with a straight fucking face.

Lestat tried to crawl over Louis to get back at him in the way big brothers would discipline annoying little brothers, but Louis ceased the potential wrestling match by yanking the man firmly back into his lap.

“Armand is divine – don’t fucking try to feed me that bullshit”, Daniel hissed through his teeth, gaining boldness from Louis’ protection. “You would jump at the offer immediately if he’d sink low enough!”

“I certainly wouldn’t!” Lestat snorted. “Mediocre! Ordinary! Boring!”

“Divine”, Louis repeated, amused.

“Fuck y’all, I’m going to bed!” Daniel declared with a huff and headed for the bathroom to brush his teeth.

He couldn’t help but grin at his reflection in the stained mirror. It was better than what he ever could’ve scripted – Lestat truly was the greatest showman without even knowing it.

Daniel hadn’t expected to work his ass off on Friday to convince Louis and Lestat to join one of his classmate’s party. The target of the persuasion had to be Louis, because it was most urgent that he was the one to witness the unraveling of Daniel’s plot, and besides Lestat would show up to a barbecue in Hell just for his man.

Daniel tried mentioning the party in passing early on Friday morning, but Louis – preparing for a Zoom class on the couch in Lestat’s fancy dressing gown and with a bucket-sized oat milk latte in his hand – didn’t seem too enthusiastic. As per usual, Daniel was late and had to run for class, from where he kept spamming Louis with increasingly alluring (read: manipulative) messages:

A lot of my classmates are hc vegan nerds. You might just find your true soulmate there, Lou. Never say never?

Btw my friend also has a cat and it’s only seven months old, so it’s basically a kitten. Like a teenager kitty, you know.

(Which wasn’t entirely true, but Machiavelli really was onto something with the end justifies the means.)

And he lives right near that nice falafel place, we could stop by on our way back home.

His attempts fell on deaf ears, until he finally realized what he’d have to plead to when he got home.

“By the way, Armand is coming too”, Daniel said, eating a few days (too) old mac and cheese straight from a plastic box. It had this slightly off and a bit too intense nacho-like aftertaste to be entirely edible, but thanks to years of stale food, alcohol and cigarette overindulgence, Daniel’s stomach was made of pure steel.

Louis’ gaze lifted from the laptop, unable to stop the curious itch in his eyebrow. The wheels in his head were turning.

“Hmm”, he pondered out loud, unaware that Daniel practically had him in his pocket already. “That so.”

“Yeah, I…” Daniel ruffled his curls all coy. “I really look forward to seeing him, we haven’t seen each other since Tuesday’s date. I mean coffee, since we had coffee.”

It was way too over the top to be anywhere near believable, but Louis truly was too deep in the act to suspect a thing. He poorly concealed his smile as he continued tapping away on his laptop.

“Hmmm”, he said again and that was the final nail in the coffin. Daniel had just hunted him for sport and the poor boy had no clue. “I suppose we could stop by.”

They’re coming, Daniel texted Armand the minute he got into his room. The guy was online to read the message pretty much immediately Daniel sent it.

I take it there will be some sloppy kissing happening tonight?

Baby, get your lip gloss ready.

They took the bus because Daniel’s friend lived on the other side of town, and so there they sat: Lestat in his typical content as long as Louis is involved -state, Lily rolling herself a joint and Louis tapping his finger to the beat of some melody playing in his head.

There was a tickling sensation at the bottom of Daniel’s stomach, like expensive champagne bubbles. An understandable reaction, he would’ve liked to think, because it had been a while since he’d kissed anyone, and Armand was unknown territory.

Oh, and the party would probably be kind of fun too, or whatever.

Some random guy let them into the apartment that was cramped to begin with, but especially now that the word had gotten around among fellow journalists. Something like forty people were squashed into the two bedroom apartment and there was an ecstatic buzz in the air that was definitely enhanced by drugs. Talking Heads played in the background as a distant interlude and the hallway was filled with black Dr. Martens’, among which Daniel left his own pathetically unoriginal pair. He left a cigarette in one boot to remember which was his, although he didn’t believe it would survive the night.

A bag of chips and a bong circulated in the living room, and Lily rushed over, tucking her joint behind her ear to save it for later. Louis and Lestat looked around with calmer demeanor, Lestat leaning over to whisper something that tricked a smile to the corner of Louis’ mouth.

Daniel scouted the crowd for Armand. He went through the kitchen and the two bedrooms, each of which was occupied by several couples making out, but Armand wasn’t there yet. Daniel sent him a message to let him know the eagle had landed, and Armand’s response was immediate: give me two seconds.

On the other side of the room Daniel spotted David, who recognized him and started strutting towards with a joyful pace. He was an acquaintance who seemed to think he was the king of news because he was about seven years older than the rest of them and had actually worked for a real newspaper (if one could call a local paper that, anyway).

“Hey, Daniel”, he said and offered his fist, against which Daniel awkwardly bumped his own. He couldn’t leave a guy hanging, even if it was some proper boomer behavior to begin with. “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine, man. Good to see you.”

“Have you done Pernet’s assignment yet?”

Ouch. “Uh, no, man, not yet. I’m still, uh, gathering some material.”

David took it as a green light to start going on about who he had interviewed and how many words he had compiled. News alert: it was 4056 more than Daniel had. Matter of fact, he hadn’t started the thing and the mere reminder that its deadline was on Monday brought a cold sweat to his skin. The longer David went on about it, the stronger the anxiety grew – Daniel felt his fingers and toes getting cold and his stomach growing heavier, and he couldn’t find the force to interrupt David’s intense monologue. He needed a drink – he really needed a god damn drink.

Until someone touched his elbow lightly: “Daniel?”

Daniel turned to face Armand, who looked at him with his eyes filled with questions. “Hey, man”, Daniel breathed out and slipped into his embrace. The tightness of the hug grounded him as much as Armand’s scent that didn’t feel like a stranger any longer. Today it was combined with musk, like he’d put on some perfume or done his hair differently. “You don’t understand how good it is to see you – fuck am I glad you could make it.”

“Of course”, Armand smiled and studied Daniel’s face before turning his attention to David. “You two know each other?”

“Yeah, David studies journalism too. David, this is Armand.”

They shook hands. “Ah – how come this is the first I’ve heard of you, Armand? You two seem close.” David looked at Armand with something like hunger.

Daniel scrunched his nose. “Yeah, we’re real close. See you around, man.” And before David could get anything out of Armand, Daniel dragged him along to get a drink.

Since it was a house party and the tenant with zero hospitality had provided nothing but cheap chips, Daniel dug his backpack for a can of the cheapest store-bought beer.

“No”, Armand shot the offer down mercilessly, having barely even glanced at the can. “I should get compensated for even considering drinking that piss.”

“Oh my god, you’re such a fucking snob. It would be a stretch to say you even considered.” Daniel rolled his eyes and snapped the can open for himself. The corner of Armand’s mouth quivered. “How’s it going?”

“Fine, I guess. I just finished working.” He glanced at a dainty leather watch on his wrist as if to check that he had indeed worked until ten o’clock at night.

“Long day, huh.” Talking Heads in the background had changed to some random pop song that thumped against the paper-thin walls. “So sorry I can’t reward your bougie ass with gin. I’m sure you’d deserve it.”

Armand smiled. “Maybe rewarding yourself with alcohol is a bit short-sighted anyway.”

“What? Who said that?“ Daniel pretended to be taken aback and got Armand to grin, but there was a grain of truth in his reaction. Okay, so maybe he was a bit too used to Fridays being all about unwinding from the long week and sleepless nights, letting go – too often in the form of some pills or beer or preferably both. He looked at the can of beer in his hand and took a long swig. It really was heinous, but he was a poor student in need of his little mental health Friday beer.

“So based on the speed you’re devouring that poison with, I assume you’ve had a rough week?”

“Yeah, I really gotta get this assignment done but I can’t force my ass to sit down to work on it. The deadline is looming over me like some bird of prey.” Daniel shivered, spotting David’s fluffy hair over the mass of people. “And customers at Pita Palace are little assholes – I fucking hate this TikTok generation. And my mom has already started to pressure me to come home for Christmas, but I’ve got no desire to suffer the jetlag just to sit through a tense family dinner where everyone pretends to be all buddy-buddy just to break their ties by the end of the day.”

“I could keep you company here. I’m not going anywhere either.”

“Yeah? I like the sound of that. We could buy some beer and get frozen Christmas dinners and watch Rear window”, Daniel grinned.

“I’d say it’s hardly any Christmas if we don’t watch Psycho as well.”

Four beer cans and half a joint later they’d moved to the cramped corner of the sofa. Their thighs were pressed together and someone’s elbow kept nudging Daniel in the ribs, but Armand’s eyes held him as if bewitched. The air was thick with smoke and the smell of his cedar wood perfume.

“Have you changed your perfume?” Daniel leaned in to ask him, sniffing the air a bit theatrically.

Armand looked amused. “Not that I know of.”

“Oh, okay. You smell good. I mean, fuck, you always smell good, but now it’s, like, a bit different than usual.”

Daniel was really close to Armand, could feel the warmth of his breath against his face.

“You know some men find the smell of other men’s sweat pleasant?” Armand asked, low. His gaze slowly trickled down to Daniel’s lips and back up to his eyes.

“Oh? No, can’t say that I knew. You think that has something to do with me?”

Armand raised his eyebrows a little and lifted a hand to touch Daniel’s neck, just gently with his knuckles.

“Don’t know. Do you?”

Daniel kind of wanted to ask Armand to grab his neck, but made the decision to lean in closer and touch Armand’s nose with his own instead. “Nah”, he whispered. “Probably not.”

And it seemed to be the invitation Armand was waiting for. He grazed Daniel’s cupid’s bow with his lips before leaning fully in and kissing him.

The kiss was light and almost innocent without a remnant of sloppiness. Until Armand’s fingers ran from Daniel’s ear to the nape of his neck and wrapped around it, forcing a moan out of Daniel’s mouth. After that, all was fair game; Armand’s tongue touched his lower lip, wet and hot, and Daniel allowed him inside.

His dizzy head vaguely realized that the kiss was accompanied by Fleetwood Mac and the hum of people’s chatter, but it all felt distant. Armand’s grip on his neck tightened a little, softened again, and Daniel wasn’t sure if he was trying to keep Daniel or himself under control, but it was weirdly sexy either way. Like without Armand being the conductor of this symphony, they might’ve lost their minds and done something nasty right then and there on the sofa.

When Daniel pulled away from the kiss to catch his breath, he pressed his nose against Armand’s hot cheek and sighed, eyes closed: “Hold it there.”

“Hm?”

“Your hand. Keep it there, on the back of my neck.”

Armand grinned, Daniel could feel it against his neck. “That would make you happy? Being held like a kitten?”

“Mm.”

“Whatever you ask for.”

A shiver swept over Daniel’s body, made him tense up and open his eyes. To his disappointment, Armand’s gaze wasn’t glued to his face but directed somewhere over his shoulder.

“He’s watching”, Armand  said, but grabbed the back of Daniel’s neck tightly before he could turn around. “Louis. Don’t make it obvious.”

Louis? Right, fuck, he’d almost forgot about the plot. Daniel was lucky one of them had any working brain cells after that kiss.

Armand looked back at him and loosened his grip on the back of Daniel’s neck, making him shiver under the gaze. His hand ran down onto Daniel’s neck, his thumb tracing the curve of his Adam’s apple.

“Beautiful boy”, Armand whispered very, very softly before leaning in to kiss Daniel again. 

Every nerve in his body tingled.

It was just too much, and at the same time not nearly enough. Daniel wanted to slip his thigh over Armand’s and sit on his lap, straddle him and help place his palms on Daniel’s ass, but Armand’s grip very deliberately held him still. He guided Daniel’s head with his hand, making it tilt to the left when he decided to and back again when he wanted to press a chaste kiss to his neck.

In something like ten minutes it managed to be wilder and more sensual than any of the drunken kissing Daniel had ever done. It usually tended to involve more beer-flavored spit, giggling and boyish groping. Armand made an art of it.

When Armand let go of Daniel – literally let go by gently pushing him off and removing his hands from Daniel’s neck –, Daniel was left sitting there breathless and dazed, staring at him like some brainless and barely functioning thing that had been abandoned.

“Louis is leaving.”

“Huh?” Daniel asked because he was staring at Armand’s mouth, but the words just wouldn’t go through.

“Louis”, Armand repeated, amused, “is leaving. Should you go with them?”

When the words finally penetrated Daniel’s mushy thoughts, he turned to look over his shoulder. He was mildly surprised to find that the world hadn’t stopped or people hadn’t taken off their clothes and thrown themselves into an orgy, because his world was oscillating and the only reason he didn’t have a boner was – never mind, he actually did have a boner.

Sure enough, Lestat was in the hallway pulling on his leather jacket (Givenchy, as he often reminded) and Louis was hugging Lily goodbye.

“Yeah”, Daniel managed to say, even though his knees, mouth and skull were all mashed. “Yeah, I probably should, shouldn’t I…” He turned to look at Armand, who had slipped his hand on Daniel’s thigh. “I really wanna stay though.”

“You should go”, he urged, squeezing his thigh. “I’ll see you later.”

“This weekend?” Daniel asked, although there was more than a little begging in it. He was too gone to care.

“You’ll be busy writing that assignment of yours.” Armand’s thumb was making an unbearably lovely swirling motion against Daniel’s thigh. “Tuesday is fine though.”

“Yeah”, Daniel said, nodding and smiling like the brainless thing he had turned into. “Yeah, Tuesday is fine.” His head started to clear up and the boner situation was under control, so he managed to get himself somewhat upright.

Armand got up after him and hugged Daniel tightly. “Send me a message when you get home”, he commanded against his ear. His voice was low and hot, making Daniel tremble.

“Yeah, I will.”

Daniel caught up with Louis and Lestat on the street, where they were walking home with their arms wrapped around each other’s waists. Louis was grinning as he demanded: “Did you find his tonsils? You really put the effort into it, boy.”

“No, I might have to continue next week”, Daniel replied with a bashful grin. “Otherwise, quite a successful evening, wouldn’t you say?”

“Didn’t get to see the cat, but it was okay.”

When they got home, Daniel locked himself into his room, slipped out of everything besides boxers and fell into the bed to eat the falafel dish they’d fetched on the way. He dug out his iPhone and, with one eye closed, tapped a message to Armand: msde it home. Thanks

Good boy. It was my pleasure.

If the words made his dick twitch, nobody needed to know, and Daniel himself could always choose to forget.

It took until Wednesday for Daniel and Armand to meet again. That didn’t mean their WhatsApp conversation wasn’t flooded when the newest episode of White Lotus dropped or when they started to compete with each other to find the most grotesque and surreal memes imaginable.

They’d give updates on their uneventful little lives, from a screenshot of Daniel’s school assignment that ended up being returned three minutes before midnight to Armand posting a picture of his lesbian roommate’s militant makeup organization in their shared bathroom.

And so Wednesday dawned, and crawled on towards the night. Daniel had invited Armand over, as he happened to know that Louis and Lestat were planning to nest the night away in their room. According to the plan, it was about time for them to witness the sudden deepening of Daniel’s innocent crush.

Daniel had promised to cook, which he already regretted as he poured the overcooked pasta into a strainer and rushed to pull the boiling pasta sauce from the stove. The kitchen was full of steam and suspicious smells when the doorbell rang. Cursing, Daniel wiped his hands on a kitchen towel before rushing to open the door, but Lestat beat him to it.

Daniel couldn’t hear anything over Shuggie Otis caressing his guitar on the record player, but he did see Lestat and Armand exchange a few seemingly polite words. Armand looked quite calm, though there was not a hint of smile on his face, and Lestat’s eyebrows were slightly furrowed. It didn’t look like they’d become the best of friends, but weirdly there was something more than animosity between them. Daniel didn’t want to call it sexual chemistry (not the least because he felt like he should have the dibs on that), but couldn’t really come up with any other term.

“Hi”, Daniel called out to interrupt their short-lived conversation or staring match, and Armand’s gaze immediately caught his. “Come on in.”

Armand stepped over to the kitchen and kind of grimaced at the sight of a limp pile of pasta.

“I’m no Gordon Ramsay”, Daniel warned.

“Right, I think I’ve seen enough proof.” Armand pressed his mouth into a tight line. “Mind if I offer a hand?”

And so he took over – he fixed the sauce with the remains of a bottle of red wine that had been sitting in the fridge for ages, some sliced garlic and a splash of soy sauce. Daniel followed him around the kitchen helplessly, trying to obey the requests before Armand even voiced them. (“Do you have garlic? Get me some soy sauce. We need to boil a new set of pasta, that’s unusable. It’s gotta be al dente, baby.”)

“This is like straight out of some cheesy romcom”, Daniel finally said, when Armand seemed somewhat satisfied with the taste of the sauce. The lack of reaction from Armand told Daniel enough. “Oh, not a fan of romcom? And you call yourself a cinephile. Pathetic. Bet you haven’t even seen When Harry Met Sally.”

Armand handed Daniel a spoonful of the sauce without a word. And fine, it was a good way to shut him up; Daniel could almost feel his pupils dilate at the taste.

“Wow, okay.” Daniel opened his mouth to beg for another spoonful, which he was blessed with. “I wasn’t familiar with your game. You turned my shit into gold.”

“It wasn’t that bad.”

“You don’t need to protect my ego. I’ve been my worst critic since I was 11, when my grandfather died and left it to me. If there’s nothing else I can do, I can always degrade myself.”

Their eyes met and they both smiled, though there seemed to be something thoughtful behind Armand’s gaze.

Daniel nearly jumped when his eye wandered over Armand’s shoulder and found Louis leaning casually against the wall, watching them with his head tilted. “Fuck”, escaped Daniel’s mouth and he had to take a heavy breath to recover from the jumpscare. “What are you, a fucking ghost? Stop sneaking around, man.”

“Hi”, Louis said to Armand, like Daniel’s entire presence was air to him. He eyed Armand, who had turned to face him, before holding out his hand. “Louis. I don’t think we’ve met.”

Armand took his hand. “Armand”, he said in a soft voice, which Daniel had started to call his charismatic cult leader voice. He could’ve used it to whisper wicked yet sultry thoughts into people’s heads if he were an undead cult leader, and Daniel suspected that not one soul could’ve resisted his commands, not even those telling people to jump into the fire for his sake. “I’ve heard a lot about you. All good, naturally.”

“Likewise”, Louis admitted. “You’re good influence on our boy.”

Daniel would’ve paid real money to see the look on Armand’s face when he heard our boy leave Louis’ lips.

“Good to hear”, Armand said after a long pause and turned a bit to give Daniel a poignant glance, which Daniel returned with a sheepish grin.

Armand hadn’t called him a good boy since Friday, but the word had dangled in the air between them – and Daniel had been pretty much incapable of thinking just about anything else ever since.

“Do you guys wanna eat with us?” he asked, pushing the praise to the back of his head where it had made its home. Louis threw a slightly hesitant look at the pasta sauce that gently sizzled on the stove, so Daniel felt forced to confess: “I’m not gonna lie – it was awful at first, but Armand fixed it. I promise it’s edible.”

Louis looked at Armand and almost seemed to be weighing up whether to give the guy a chance or not. “Yeah, okay”, he finally agreed with a nod. “We could eat. I’ll go get Lestat.”

“You’re really good”, Daniel whispered to Armand after Louis had left. He reached over to grab a stack of plates from the cupboard. “You’ll have him eating right out of your palm.”

Armand shrugged. “I’m used to dealing with pretty boys like him.”

Daniel felt a dark, almost possessive twist in the pit of his stomach (pretty boys – well, at least he was a beautiful boy), but didn’t want to get stuck there. He slammed the plates on the table and dug out some wine glasses while Armand corked the bottle he had brought.

By the time Lestat and Louis arrived, the table was set and Daniel had turned the B-side of Shuggie Otis. For a moment, the atmosphere was tense – Louis sat down in an overly composed posture while Daniel had a hard time looking him in the eye. 

“So, Armand”, Louis began as he elegantly rolled the pasta against his spoon. “I heard you’re studying law.”

Daniel felt like rolling his eyes – the man sounded like a dubious father-in-law and looked equally old-fashioned in his green vintage wool vest and corduroy pants.

“Yeah, it’s my fourth year.”

“Are you from around here?”

“Jesus fucking Christ”, Daniel interrupted, pouring some red wine for Louis. “He’s not my date and you’re not my dad.”

Louis had a mouthful of pasta and looked like he was trying to chew as fast as possible to throw a snarky comment back, but his eyes widened in the process. “Wait, this is actually good”, he said, visibly relaxing in his chair. “What did you do? Daniel’s food is usually inedible.”

“That’s a lie and you know it. I make a mean mac and cheese.”

“Straight from the package”, Lestat snickered, and Daniel didn’t have enough evidence to defend himself. Fine, maybe he wasn’t tradwife potential – he had other virtues.

“Adding salt and garlic usually saves any dish”, Armand replied to Louis and took a generous sip of his wine.

Louis imitated the gesture with his own glass and grimaced. “Can’t give you compliments on the wine, though.”

“What? You’re joking – I’m sure my mom would love a glass”, Daniel teased, swirling the nasty stuff in his glass.

Louis caught the drift. “I take it back. Hell, it would be good enough for the fucking pope.”

“Alright, lay it off”, Armand huffed. “So I didn’t get the most expensive bottle in the store, whatever.”

“Anyway, how did you two meet? It wasn’t that long ago”, Louis got back on track with his questioning.

Armand and Daniel look at each other.

“At the bar”, Daniel said as Armand finished chewing. “He bought me a drink and we talked.”

“Right, but the next morning you sounded like nothing was gonna come of it”, Louis said sweetly. “Just some weirdo at the bar, if I remember your words correctly.”

The bastard knew exactly what he was doing.

Daniel coughed because Armand didn’t know any of this and he didn’t want to delve too deep into it. “Nothing is gonna come of it, stop forcing us into a gay romance.”

“Oh, you’re forcing yourself, dear boy. I’m just enjoying the show.”

Armand looked amused as he replied to Louis: “I bumped into Daniel in the library afterwards and we got stuck talking. I suppose my weird demeanor cracked his shell.”

It was rare that they ate around the table, as the typical way for them was to slump on the sofa and eat sandwiches together. So perhaps it was not surprising that their dinner had begun with some tension – but now the worst seemed to be over. The conversation flowed with more ease, especially after Louis and Armand found a common thread in jazz, and Lestat, against his will, was forced to discover that he and Armand had both been theatre kids.

The theatre reveal came as a surprise to Daniel, but it probably explained both the ambitious way Armand had woven their plot and his naturalness at the scenes they had acted out. There at the table, as the evening dimmed beyond the windows but the air in the kitchen became all the warmer, it almost didn’t feel like a plot anymore. Daniel found himself staring at Armand a few times and caught him looking back and giving him the faintest smile at least once.

After the dinner, Armand took another glass of wine (which everyone else refused to drink) and joined Louis and Lestat on the sofa while Daniel cleared the table and dealt with the dishes. There were sounds of some random French film playing on the TV and a low conversation between Louis and Armand.

It felt odd, almost cozy. Daniel, Lestat and Louis had become a weird little family despite (or because of) months of bickering and tantrums. But that wasn’t all they were – every week they found time to just lounge on the sofa in their pajamas watching shitty movies, giggling and getting stoned.

Armand’s vibrant voice fit the room well, made it sound like he was meant to be there. Like he could’ve become a part of that family.

Near twelve, Louis and Lestat retired to their room, and Daniel was not naive enough to think they were going to sleep. The second the door to their room closed, he leaned in to whisper to Armand: “They’re gonna be fucking. The walls are thick, but not thick enough. You wanna escape to my room?”

Armand looked at his wristwatch with a frown. “I don’t know, it’s getting kind of late. I should probably head home, it’ll take me a while to walk.”

The thought made Daniel flatten. “Come on, man. You can stay over. My bed is no king size, but two people have slept in it before. Three people once or twice, actually, so you have no excuses.”

Armand studied his face for a long moment. “Boundaries?” he finally asked almost like a warning, but his pupils were huge. They reminded Daniel of a large predatory cat pausing in the grass to observe its unsuspecting prey.

Being the object of it was thrilling.

“No problem”, he whispered with a grin, squeezing Armand’s thigh like he was just some dude among a sea of dudes he was used to spooning with. “Your tongue has already been down my throat, what more intimate could you do to me?” The corners of Armand’s mouth twitched and his eyes squinted a little – the impression of an apex predator was only reinforced. “Okay, yeah, I take it back – I bet there’s plenty you could do, loverboy. But you know what I mean.”

“I didn’t take a toothbrush”, Armand said. He didn’t sound reluctant at all, more like he was offering Daniel a way out.

“You can use mine.”

“Disgusting”, Armand said, but didn’t sound like he thought so.

“Like I said, your tongue has already been down my throat.” Daniel gave him a moment to think before demanding: “Well? You staying?”

“Hm. If you insist.”

And with that, Armand let Daniel wash his teeth first before taking over the bathroom. While the guy was washing himself, Daniel tiptoed into his bedroom to strip down to his boxers and dig out a t-shirt that didn’t stink or have a hole in it. He panicked a little when he realized he hadn’t changed the sheets in a couple of weeks, but a quick dusting of some chips crumbs on the floor helped a bit.

Armand sneaked in while Daniel was frantically cleaning up the worst piles of trash from the desk. (Old receipts, half-eaten bags of chips, beer cans, empty cigarette packages, dirty disposable coffee cups with exotic mold growing in the inch of coffee that had been left at the bottom. Lestat had it so right – he was a pig.) Daniel stared at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

Armand answered with a grin and closed the door quietly behind him. “They truly are fucking”, he said, making Daniel snicker. “The bed is squeaking and everything.”

“Yes, thank God they had the decency not to go at it in the living room. They’ve often driven me to my room with that neat little trick.”

Daniel handed Armand a t-shirt and tried not to give too much weight to the way his heart stumbled when he saw Armand in his Black Sabbath shirt, his curls loose and his eyes drowsy from the wine.

“Uh, go ahead”, Daniel said stupidly, gesturing towards his narrow wooden bed. “Welcome to my crib and all.”

Armand shook his head. “Is this where you sleep? Like every night? Boy, you have to come and stay at mine one day, it’ll change your life.” The boy he casually dropped made Daniel shiver. “I refuse to sleep in anything smaller than 160 centimeters anymore, but I’ll make an exception for you. Go on, get comfortable. I’m more of a big spoon.”

Armand went to turn off the ceiling light while Daniel did as he was told and slipped under the covers. He was still trying to get a comfortable position when the mattress bent under Armand’s weight and Daniel felt his body heat glow against his back. Daniel was so neatly tucked between Armand’s body and the wall that he couldn’t have turned over without elbowing the guy in the nose or rubbing his ass all over Armand’s crotch, even though it couldn’t exactly be called spooning.

“You okay?” Armand asked, his hot breath against the back of Daniel’s neck. For a moment, Daniel’s head was spinning and he was unable to answer, his heart pounding furiously and rushing blood into his ears. “Daniel. I could leave. It’s not a problem.”

It brought Daniel back to earth, back to the sheets softened by weeks of heat and restless sleep, back to Armand’s body behind him.

“Yeah”, he mumbled, only realizing as he felt Armand stiffen that maybe he thought Daniel was asking him to leave. “Shit, I didn’t mean that. I mean everything’s fine. Please, don’t go.”

Armand relaxed, but slowly, as if to give Daniel room to change his mind.

“It was a successful evening. You could become a star at the local theatre.”

Armand laughed hoarsely. “Thanks. I think I’ll try the lawyer route first, but it’s good to know there are other options if it all goes to shit.”

Daniel smiled. “Louis likes you, too.”

“And Lestat hates me.”

“Nah, he just opens up slowly. And you don’t want to be liked by him – that’s usually a sign that he’s up to no good.”

Daniel felt Armand nodding slowly as if going through a reel in his head. “Right. Good to know.”

Daniel was a known night owl and so was Armand based on their nocturnal conversations, but after just some chatting, Daniel’s lids started to droop. Armand’s scent filled the air and made his muscles finally give in, like he could relax after the long evening.

“Sleep well, will you”, Daniel muttered with his mouth against the pillow.

He barely had time to hear Armand’s soft reply before the lights went out.

The morning dawned with a violent alarm, as it always did on weekdays. Groaning, Daniel smashed the snooze button, though he’d already set the alarm late enough to know he wouldn’t make it in time for class. He was used to abusing his bright eyes and clumsy French to his advantage, but most of the professors had become immune to his charm by now.

The alarm also led to the guy spooning Daniel wrapping himself tighter around him. The hug was so penetratingly tight that Daniel had no way of wriggling out of it unless the guy would kindly loosen his grip.

Armand, Daniel remembered after a moment of confused blinking at the wall. He had stayed for the night. Daniel relaxed into the grip and let his eyelids roll shut.

When he woke up five minutes later to the sound of his iPhone again, Armand growled against the back of his neck: “Shut it. Fucking smash it if you have to.”

His hot lips and the sternness of his tone made Daniel’s stomach clench. “Yeah, I gotta get up anyway”, he whispered, battling to untangle himself from the tight embrace.

Armand just refused to let go.

“Stay“, he tried to command, his words slurred with sleep. “Skip the lecture. We’ll sleep in.”

“I really need to go, it’s a mandatory class.”

Grumping, Armand released his grip so that Daniel could slip over his limp body and onto his feet. Armand immediately grabbed a pillow as a substitute for Daniel and seemed to ease right back to sleep. He had sometimes complained about insomnia, but Daniel (not entirely without bitterness) estimated that he had no issues right then and there.

With a peculiar mix of envy and affection, Daniel watched Armand’s back rise and fall in time with a calm breath as he pulled on jeans and the first t-shirt he could find, on which Marc Bolan unaudibly strummed his guitar. Daniel grabbed his backpack and stuffed it with his laptop, a notebook, a single pen and a pack of cigarettes.

Daniel sneaked out of the room to find Louis sitting at the kitchen table with his familiar set of coffee and a hummus sandwich. He silently greeted Daniel with a wave before turning his attention back to the paperback he was reading. (Giovanni’s room – what a poser.)

Daniel brushed his teeth for barely twenty seconds (he could never beat the nasty rat allegations), ran a comb through his curls to stop them from standing all the way up and rushed to grab something to eat.

“Fuuuck”, he cursed, trying to scan the contents of the fridge. “Why don’t we have anything to take on the go, I’m already fucking late!”

Louis handed over his half-eaten hummus sandwich, which Daniel grabbed and almost fell to his knees with gratitude.

“Louis de Pointe du Lac, you’re a fucking saint and I will pay you back when I’m rich and famous and won my two Pulitzer prizes.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it, Danny.” The man and the myth smiled and turned a page. “Did Armand stay late? He seems like a sensible guy. A good influence on you for sure.”

“Oh yeah, he stayed the night”, Daniel said and shoved the sandwich into his mouth while tying his boots.

Louis slowly raised his eyes and stared at Daniel. “He stayed the night?” he repeated, blinking. “He – in your room?”

“No, I put him on the bathroom floor like a dog – of course in my room, man.”

“In the same bed?” Louis asked, but Daniel couldn’t answer because his mouth was again filled with hummus, and he was slipping his leather jacket on. “Wait, is he – he’s still here?”

Daniel blew Louis a kiss as he rushed out the door.

Armand reported via WhatsApp that he had been subjected to the third-degree interrogation that Daniel had narrowly managed to escape.

But I’m positive I got good grades, he continued with a selfie of him smiling in his cunty little sunglasses. I think he likes me.

Who wouldn’t? I’m afraid you’re the perfect son-in-law, Daniel wrote back.

It’s just because he doesn't know the nasty things I’d do to his perfect little flower.

Daniel wasn’t proud of it, but he barked a violent laugh out loud. Shut up, he texted Armand the words he sensed everyone else in the auditorium mentally bombarded him with.

When Daniel stopped by home just to change before his shift, he found Louis in a suspiciously good mood. So the guy really did like Armand. Luckily the interrogation techniques he’d used on Armand had satisfied his need for gossip and so he let Daniel sneak into his room without raising hell. 

Being the perfect houseguest he was, Armand had neatly folded the Black Sabbath shirt on the corner of Daniel’s bed. Daniel sat down for a moment (which he technically had no time for, but he liked living on the edge), lifted the shirt to his face and sniffed in the scent that clung to the fabric.

It warmed him from toe to fingertip. (And was entirely normal behavior, he wanted to believe.)

Armand’s weekends were often long and busy, so their communication was limited to WhatsApp, which pinged all day long in the form of casual chitchat and obscure memes. Daniel had no illusions that Armand would have time for his needy ass, so on Sunday after his shift, Daniel took a quick shower at Pita Palace and headed straight for Eugene.

There was always a familiar face at Eugene – and even if there wasn't, Daniel was the type of chaotic extrovert that could always find himself company. But he didn't need to resort to that as the second he got in, Lily jumped up in a table filled with her classmates and waved Daniel over.

Being a literature student, Lily had told Daniel that every woman in her class could be categorized into one of two leagues: they were either depressed lesbians, who hadn’t had the energy to open a book in two years, or optimistic, cottage-core vibing straight girls, who wrote fragmentary poetry into the margins of their bullet journals. Lily herself was true to her words: during the three years of uni studies, she had apparently read one and a half books from start to finish. So her categorization system was not only tinged but filled with self-deprecation.

Despite her harsh words, Daniel actually found himself enjoying the company of her classmates. They were clever and got him to laugh so hard he burst some beer out of his nose, before the pint had even had time to lighten up his mood.

There was a girl that specifically caught his attention. Julia had dark curly hair and brown eyes, but it was the elegant gestures and the way she teased Daniel by raising her eyebrows that really intrigued him.

She was no lesbian (but pan), but she was not this fragmentary poem type of girl either. She didn’t fit into the strict juxtaposition Lily had created and Daniel was quick to tell her so, hoping to get a laugh out of her.

No such luck – Julia rolled her eyes and said: “Oh, that’s just her internalized misogyny. Why does everyone have to force binaries where they don’t belong?”

Daniel perked up. “I believe you, totally – I mean, I believe all women – but how exactly can a girl be misogynistic?”

“Come on now. You should take some gender studies.”

Daniel grinned. “Maybe I will. In the meantime, can I get you a drink?”

Julia looked at him, considering the offer for a while. There was a spark in her eyes, though. “Fine”, she finally agreed, as if giving Daniel a great gift of mercy. That’s what it felt like. “I guess you could get me a Moscow Mule if you insisted.”

Daniel was up and on the counter in seconds. The bar was getting more crowded and the noise level was increasing. Daniel was waiting for the drinks when he noticed a familiar figure in the distance. 

If it wasn’t Armand standing there in his long black coat, his curls elegantly combed back to something reminiscent of waves. A smile curled his lips, his expression suddenly so seductive that Daniel almost expected to see a spark of light caught in a fatal little fang as Armand tilted his head back and laughed. No such thing, of course.

Warmth trickled down Daniel’s entire body and a smile forced the corners of his mouth. The second he got the drinks, he wandered through the crowd to get closer to Armand.

Daniel hadn’t quite reached him when something in the picture suddenly felt wrong. He paused in the middle of the bar to realize that Armand was leaning overly casually against a wall, chatting to someone – a man with big dark eyes and shyly upturned lips. The guy gazed up at Armand, his mouth agape with adoration he didn’t bother disguising. And Armand wasn’t any more discreet as he raised his hand to touch the boy’s chin, lifted it a little and leaned in to press a chaste kiss to his lips.

Stupid.

A heavy sensation tumbled down Daniel’s stomach and spread around into his lungs until it reached all the way to the top of his head. Stupid, Daniel thought again, but couldn’t get his feet to move – he just stared at the gentle kiss, Armand’s slender fingers on the boy’s chin.

As if sensing a change in the room’s vibe, Armand broke away from the kiss and looked to the side.

His eyes locked with Daniel’s, and time just stood.

At first, Armand’s face was struck by a delighted smile, which quickly drained away at the lack of response.

Yeah, fuck this, Daniel thought. With hurried steps he fled back to Lily’s table, because suddenly he couldn’t bear to stand there for a moment longer staring either at the tender moment he’d interrupted or Armand’s surprised doe eyes.

“There you go”, he said with a cold, machine-like tone, as he shoved the Moscow Mule on the table in front of Julia.

He watched the freckles on her dark cheeks, her soft lips as she slipped a straw between them and took a sip.

Fuck it. Two could play that game – he’d shoot his shot. “Uh, would you mind if I kissed you?”

“Oh.” She looked surprised, but her small mouth widened into a smile and she set the drink down on the table. “I think you should work a bit more for it, don’t you?”

“I do”, Daniel admitted, but didn’t have time to continue as Julia leaned towards him and held him by the chin.

The kiss was light and sweet, but somehow deceptive. Julia smelled and felt good, her hand even turned Daniel’s head a little, which managed to strike a chord in the pit of his stomach.

But it still felt bitter.

As they pulled away from each other, Julia seemed to share the thought. She turned to her drink, not meeting Daniel’s eyes.

“Sorry”, Daniel managed to say over the buzzing in his head. “That was…” But he had no words to describe any of it. Julia licked her lips, sugary from the drink, and looked at him with raised eyebrows, expecting something. Daniel felt his panic grow so he did what he usually did. “I’ll drop by the bathroom, promise I’ll be right back.”

And he ran away – with his pint.

Daniel didn’t know exactly where he was headed when a tight grip on his arm made him stop. Of course it was Armand, as Daniel realized that his body had hoped for. The thought was more than a bit unnerving.

“Hey”, Armand kind of yelled to be heard over the chatter and loud music surrounding them. “Wanna go out for a cigarette?”

He just held Daniel’s arm, waiting, until Daniel realized that nothing was going to happen before he’d give an answer.

“Sure”, he said, and let Armand lead them out.

In the last few days, the climate change hellscape had eased a bit, although it was still milder than usually this time in October. Armand leaned against a brick wall and watched intently as Daniel dug a cigarette out of his pocket.

The light Armand offered came as a surprise, but Daniel allowed it. There was something intimate about the gesture, something tender.

Daniel thanked him with a nod as he took his first drag.

“I didn’t know you’d be here tonight”, he said, blowing the smoke away from them.

“I didn’t know you’d be here.” Armand kept watching him, his eyes unblinking and all-seeing. “Just so you know – and not that I think it’s any of your business at all – I had set that date up weeks ago. Way before our agreement.”

Daniel nodded and sucked on the cigarette, his hand trembling. “Right. You’re not accountable to me.” He didn’t quite dare to look at Armand. “You two having fun?”

Armand glanced around before saying, low: “He’s a great guy. Pretty and nice and very... willing.” He looked at Daniel’s mouth and blinked slowly. “But I can’t help but feel like it’s missing… something.”

Daniel’s chest ached at the words. “Yeah? What does that mean?”

Armand shrugged. “Whatever you want it to mean.”

Daniel hoped he was interpreting the words like they were intended to. He couldn’t help but smile, satisfaction bubbling and growing inside him.

“Armand”, he said and burst out laughing. “God help me, this sounds so fucking stupid. Uh – would you be willing to be exclusive with me for the duration of this fake relationship?”

Armand grinned. “It does sound fucking stupid, Daniel.”

“I know! But I just found out that I don’t particularly like watching you lick someone else’s face while we’re in a non-situationship.”

“I could have kissed my grandmother the way I did that poor boy.”

But Armand was already laughing, and Daniel was relieved that he took this madness with amusement. Daniel wouldn’t have even minded if he said no and went back inside to french kiss that pretty boy into oblivion. Just the fact that he took the time to listen, to look at Daniel, to talk to him in that laughing voice of his made Daniel feel seen.

“Right, and what would’ve been the next step?” he teased. “You would have been handing out cross stitch tips and filling sudoku puzzles together?”

But Armand refused to be tricked into Daniel’s shenanigans.

“No, you’re right – I would’ve taken him to my apartment and broken his back. So, you want me to stop sleeping around for the duration of your stupid game?”

Daniel, shaken by the bluntness, stuttered: “I mean... Yeah. I guess that’s what I’m asking for. Uh – would you?”

Armand stared at him. Finally, he shook his head a little, leaned in to grab the cigarette between Daniel’s lips and took a long drag of it. He looked hot as hell with his hair slicked back and his eyes sparkling soft like that.

“Fine”, he said, smiling, and slipped the cigarette back in Daniel’s mouth. “I can go a month without getting laid. What about you?”

“Huh?”

“Don’t try me, I saw you kissing that girl. Are you going to take part in celibacy as well?”

It was not a problem per se, but Daniel was well aware of his tendency to turn into an advocate of free love (slut – he meant slut) the second he got some intoxicants in his system.

“You don’t have to”, Armand laughed and sounded suddenly almost cruel. “I’ll give you another option: you could just invite me to watch.”

Daniel’s face turned scorching hot and, given his pathetically pale complexion, he was guaranteed to have flushed pink. After a brief self-reflection, he was man enough to admit to himself that he might just be up for it. The thought of Armand sitting in the corner of the room watching and talking in his low voice while Daniel kissed the between of Julia’s thighs felt like Fareed’s quality junk.

“Um – let me put a pin on that,” he finally stammered. “But yeah, sure, I’m in. Let’s commit to this monogamous fake situationship.” He held out his hand to seal the deal.

Armand looked at it, raising an eyebrow: “I’d say we’re past the handshake stage, don’t you think?”

They shared a smile until Armand reached out to take the cigarette from Daniel’s lips, pressed him surprisingly tight against the brick wall and touched the end of his nose with his own. It felt intoxicating, but Daniel got even more drowsy when Armand finally put his hand on Daniel’s neck and kissed him. It was as soft as the kiss inside, but he ran his tongue teasingly over Daniel’s lower lip.

Just as Daniel was about to open his mouth to deepen the kiss, Armand pulled back and took a drag of the cigarette.

“It’s a deal”, he smiled. What a fucking tease – Daniel’s balls wouldn't be blue but fucking black by the end of this thing. “Shall we go back inside?”

Like a very happy dog on a leash, Daniel followed.

Although the heat had started to recede over the last few days, it suddenly saw appropriate to return twice as devastating. The morning dawned hot and sunny in Daniel’s musty room. He woke up to sunlight creeping down his bare thigh and leaving a burn in its wake. 

Being spooned already felt safe and almost familiar, but there was something previously undiscovered in the experience that morning. When Daniel stretched himself in Armand’s embrace, something poked him in the back of his thigh.

He froze.

It was perfectly natural – they had been kissing torturously slow and gentle the night before and Daniel’s ass must’ve been rubbing against Armand’s cock all night. It was flattering really, enough so that there was a twitch in Daniel’s own dick.

He didn’t know what supernatural sense made Armand stir despite Daniel barely even breathing to stay as still as possible just to bask in the sleepy moment. (Hey, he wasn’t gay, but he was apparently not immune to dicks pressing against his ass and the overwhelming presence of a cedar-scented man either.)

Lovely little kitten-like noises trickled out of Armand’s mouth as he tried to get himself to wake up and pulled Daniel tighter against his chest.

Until he stiffened, just like Daniel had less than three minutes ago.

“Shit”, he said, already pushing Daniel away. “Fuck. Daniel, I’m so sorry.”

Daniel grabbed his arm, refusing to let him go. “It’s okay, man”, he replied, feverishly trying to think of an even slightly heterosexual way of saying I kinda like it when you’re so close that our skin melts together and I can feel your dickprint between my buttocks. Armand’s whole body was still stiff, except his boner which was softening from the fright, so Daniel petted the dark hair on his forearm with his thumb. “Hey, I’m so fucking serious when I say this: it’s fine. It’s not my first time at the rodeo.”

Armand seemed to stiffen even more. “Excuse me?”

Daniel didn’t want to brag or anything, but once he’d started... “I’ve given a friend or two a handjob. You know how it goes – just boys being boys.”

Armand was silent for a long moment before he huffed an almost inaudible laugh into Daniel’s neck.

“Daniel, clearly I do not know how it goes, since that’s just gay sex to me.” But his body relaxed a little, encapsulating Daniel back into his warmth. “The longer we keep doing this, the more damning information you reveal. Maybe I should put up my money for Louis after all.”

Daniel rolled his eyes. “Okay, wow. If that’s your attitude, I won’t even mention that time I sucked a friend off.”

Armand’s uncontrolled burst of laughter sent shivers all over Daniel’s body.

Daniel thought back to last night – how they’d left the party around eleven just to wander into a nearby park, share a joint and stare at the stars. They’d kept talking, sometimes over each other, and ended up sloppily kissing. Classic Daniel high as a kite behavior, when there didn’t seem to be any reason not to straddle someone and get them to pull your hair a bit.

“There’s no one around to even see us kissing, how do you justify this”, Armand had laughed and stroked Daniel’s hair with an adoring look in his eyes. Daniel had started to suspect that he had to sweat oxytocin to make a man smile like that.

“Oh, I’ll tell Louis all about it”, Daniel had promised, nibbling Armand’s lower lip to coax him back into the kissing business. “I won’t spare a detail. I promise your service won’t go to waste, brave soldier.”

Daniel didn’t know what time they had stumbled home, but now his iPhone informed him it was half past ten. His guts rumbled to signal his body’s need to be fed, and he wouldn’t have minded a painkiller either, even though he didn’t have a proper hangover. He had been surprisingly well-behaved the night before, Louis would have been proud.

Louis.

“We gotta get breakfast”, Daniel realized, fighting his way out of Armand’s magnetic pull. “Louis has to see us!”

“Who’s diligent now”, Armand muttered as he climbed to his feet after Daniel. He didn’t bother changing out of the worn Black Sabbath shirt, he just slipped some pants on to be decent for their audience.

Seeing him so relaxed, as if Daniel’s shirt belonged on his body by an unspoken agreement, made Daniel’s heart skip a beat. It didn’t help at all that Armand grabbed a scrunchie from the corner of the table and wrapped his hair in a little bun over the nape of his neck.

Daniel wanted to kiss and bite his neck, a realization which shook him a bit.

“Yeah”, he said, because he couldn’t keep quiet when his head was boiling and bubbling like that. “I’m so diligent you wouldn’t believe.”

Armand turned to look at him, smiling, and slid the round eyeglasses over Daniel’s nose. Daniel could see his face more clearly than he had the entire night before, because in his typical fashion he had spent the evening half-blind. He couldn’t stop beaming at Armand’s big eyes and long lashes.

“Oh, I believe you, beautiful boy. Now let’s go.”

Daniel – a beautiful boy – obeyed his command.

Lestat lounged on the red velvet sofa in his dressing gown and pajamas like some 19th century idle nobleman. The historical portrait was destroyed by the tinkling mobile phone that seemed to have bewitched him. His Candy Crush addiction would’ve been something worth exploring if school and drinking didn’t take up all of Daniel’s time.

“Good morning”, Lestat greeted, looking at Armand with a face so devoid of expression that there had to be a sea of emotions bubbling inside.

“Morning, man. How was your night?” Daniel asked, digging some yoghurt and bread out of the fridge. Armand put the coffee pot on and soon the familiar roasted smell took over the room.

“It was all right.” Which translated into we fought, not at all unusual to them. “Louis went home, he’s got this assignment that requires his attention.” Oh, so it was actually serious.

When Daniel took a closer look at Lestat, his eyes were indeed a little puffy and red, like he’d either bawled violently last night or sobbed a little this morning – or most likely both.

Daniel looked at Armand, who raised his eyebrows helplessly.

“Do you want to, um – should we go or...?”

“No, no!” Lestat stuttered and blinked rapidly at Daniel, a little panicked.

He was one of the most codependent people Daniel had ever met; when he was not hanging around Louis (which he did 98% of the time), he was doing his best to get on Daniel’s nerves or hung out at Antoinette’s. They seemed to be his best substitutes for Louis’ company.

After a year of living together, Daniel had started to realize that Lestat was not too popular among his own peers. It almost seemed like he was too direct and quick-tempered, or in some strange ways too beautiful and charismatic (which Daniel would never have admitted out loud) to make genuine friends easily. He had this aura of too much perfection (and smugness) which Daniel supposed was unattractive to most people.

But beneath his cool demeanor there was someone who craved intimacy; Daniel had learned to see beyond his shell, but it had taken some time. 

As if realizing the desperation in his words, Lestat continued, in a slightly cooler tone: “I mean, it’s your place just as much. You can stay here if you’d like.”

Daniel rolled his eyes at Armand with his back to Lestat so that the guy wouldn’t put up a fight just to let off steam. “Okay”, Daniel replied, loading three pieces of cheese on a thin slice of bread. “Wanna watch the new episode of White Lotus with us?”

Lestat kind of sniffled, before finally confessing, on the verge of tears: “Louis will kill me if I watch it without him.”

“Oh, he doesn’t need to know.”

Lestat shot a short glance at Armand before admitting: “I guess it can’t hurt him… as long as he never finds out.”

“That’s right, man. It’ll be our little secret.”

And so the three of them settled down on the sofa among the blankets and cushions to stare at the lush glow of Thailand.

In the middle of the episode, Armand’s palm slipped under the blanket and squeezed Daniel’s thigh.

The days flew and merged into each other; Louis and Lestat made up just to end up almost blocking each other again. Then they made up again, very publicly and obscenely on the couch, in Lestat’s bedroom and in the bathroom, although Daniel was delighted to hear that their nasty business was interrupted by the hot water running out.

Daniel drowned himself in schoolwork and making pitas at Pita Palace. It was all situation normal, except that he and Armand played house like they were award winning actors on Broadway.

Daniel invited Armand to visit Pita Palace, where he made the guy three different kinds of bread for free.

“And you claim you can’t cook”, Armand grinned as he stuffed the second one into his mouth. “Some day some lucky girl is going to make a great housewife out of you.”

“If you’re prepared to live on pita bread that decomposes slower than plastic then sure, I’d take care of the kids and clean the kitchen.”

“I’ve already got microplastics all over my brain, so I could probably live with that. Not with the kids, though. Can we negotiate those?”

“No, I want two – that’s my final offer. One of them is going to play the piano like an angel.”

“Well, shit.”

Claudia sat on the counter sucking a coke through a straw and watching them like some alien species. “So, you’re doing this to fuck with your roommate’s head”, she interrupted their larping.

Alongside Armand, she was the only one who knew about the plot. Daniel had decided that the secret was safe with her, because Louis never visited Pita Palace – and Claudia was just too talented at digging stuff out of Daniel.

“Yep”, Daniel confirmed as he filled Armand’s third pita bread with marinated soy strips, jalapeno, tomato and plastic-flavored cheddar.

Claudia was quiet with the straw still in her mouth. Finally, she blurted: “There’s something deeply wrong with you. You’re taking this way too seriously.”

“Shut up, kiddo. You’re in high school, you wouldn’t get it.”

“No, I’m serious. You’re weird and you know it.”

And like she’d gotten the last word, she went to the backroom to unpack some pita boxes.

“Crazy girl”, Daniel shook his head while placing the third pita bread on the counter.

Armand looked at Daniel and leaned his chin on his palm. With something like hesitance, he opened his mouth: “I wonder if she’s right. Maybe it’s time to come out of the closet and tell Louis that you’re definitely straight and we’ve been making out in front of him just for laughs.”

“No, Armand, don’t believe that little girl! You out of anyone should realize that this thing is still missing the grande finale!” Daniel got all worked up, until he realized something and lowered his voice. “Unless, of course, you don’t want to go on. Is that it? You don’t wanna kiss me anymore? We can quit immediately, I promise you. Just say the word, yeah?”

“Nah, I’m grand”, Armand said, but looked at his fizzling drink in a short silence. “You’re not... You’re not having any thoughts, though? Regrets or – or something else. Feelings. Something. Anything?”

“No”, Daniel replied, surprised by the sensitive tone and approach. “Don’t worry about me, man, I’m just fine.”

Armand was about to say something, but the bell above the door jingled and a horde of teenagers rushed in. Daniel recognized the type by their loud expressions; they were definitely going to buy a ton of drinks and practice TikTok dances in the corner of the room.

“Sorry, I’ll take care of them”, Daniel whispered to Armand and moved towards the kids. “Enjoy your pita, we’ll get back to this.”

But they never did.

During the next few days Armand took him to the cinema to watch a shitty slasher movie, before which they’d smoked a fat blunt which made them giggle the entire movie and gobble up two buckets of popcorn. Armand also helped Daniel understand EU legislation for his next schoolwork and held his hand on Daniel’s thigh while they sat on the couch watching the Triangle of Sadness (it was hilarious; it was terrifying; it almost made Lestat throw up during the famous vomiting scene).

Armand stayed the night.

When Daniel woke up, it was due to the morning light creeping up the walls and a hard-on pressing against his ass. It felt natural, just like the feeling of Armand’s chest glued to his back did. They had kicked the blanket down to their feet during the night, and now Armand was close enough to breathe hotly against the back of Daniel’s neck.

Daniel’s dick desperately wanted him to know that it volunteered to be used. Being the chaotic and twisted individual that he was, always chasing the next possible high, Daniel wiggled his ass against Armand.

Armand whined and moved, but didn’t awaken from his slumber. Daniel grinded his hips again and this time he could feel Armand slowly waking up – he could hear it in the changing rhythm of his breathing.

Completely silent in the golden sunshine, Armand seemed to observe for a moment. Daniel hardly gave him enough time to evaluate; he started a light, teasing grind against the dick that had sunk between his cheeks.

Armand’s hand slid across Daniel’s belly to his chest, and from there all the way to his neck. It was heavy there, like a warning.

“Boy”, he said in a quiet voice, hoarse after sleep. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Daniel’s stomach dropped – a flood of thoughts rushed into his head. Fuck, he had overstepped their boundaries. Armand hated it – Armand hated him and his hairy fucking ass. What the fuck had he been thinking.

Until Armand went on: “If you keep up, I’m gonna have to…”

He didn’t need to finish his threat. Daniel’s insides returned to their familiar place and the breath he hadn’t even realized was trapped in his lungs got out in a shudder.

“You’re gonna what?” he said and squirmed his ass. Armand’s hand on his neck tightened a little. “Put me into my place? Maybe that’s what I’m after.”

“Oh, you don’t know what you’re asking for.”

Armand’s hand slid down to touch his nipple, easily available as there was no shirt in the way. The heat, still exasperatingly persistent, had forced them out of everything but their boxers. The touch made Daniel open his mouth, and the way Armand twisted his nipple made him moan like a whore with a Bachelor’s degree in whoring.

“You’re so easy”, Armand laughed, leaning in to nuzzle Daniel’s neck. With startling ease Armand tossed Daniel onto his stomach and slid on his back, his cock stiff against the back of Daniel’s thigh. “I don’t think you’d have the stamina for me putting you into your place. You’d just make a mess in your pants.”

“No, I could take it”, Daniel almost whimpered, kind of proving Armand’s point.

He was totally willing to let Armand take – hell, just plain old have – all the control, as he plunged deep into almost dreamlike pleasure. His dick was now hardening against the sheets as Armand rocked against him. His mouth on Daniel’s neck changed from soft to violent, running his tongue against Daniel’s jawbone and nibbling his earlobe.

“You’re so fucking easy”, Armand repeated, husky. “I can see you begging for it. Are you this much of a slut for all the girls you fuck?”

“Shit. Armand, please.”

“Are you?”

“Yeah.” His voice was weak, a reflection of the unbearable pleasure that had taken over his body. “Yeah, I am.”

“Just begging for someone to come and put you on your knees where you belong. A lot of girls ride you, don’t they? And you like it that way. You like being put to good use.”

A moan escaped Daniel’s mouth and his eyes squeezed shut. Armand’s hand came up to his lips and fed him two fingers. Daniel accepted them immediately, swirling his tongue around them. A feverish thought crossed his mind – was he being a good boy for Armand, was he?

“That’s it. That’s my good boy”, Armand panted, like he had read Daniel’s mind. “I’d love to hear every sound you make, but we’d better keep quiet, love. The walls aren’t thick enough for me to make you scream.”

Daniel’s mind traveled somewhere far, to unknown frontiers and then beyond. Armand started slowly fucking him through their boxers, his grinding making Daniel’s dick rub against the mattress. He couldn’t help but think what Armand’s cock would look like – what it would smell or taste like.

What it would feel like inside of him. How Armand would spread his thighs and slap his ass and praise what a good and tight and open hole he was.

Shit, he couldn’t take it, his body took over.

“Oh, God”, he slurred, Armand’s fingers still in his mouth, lazily fucking the wetness. “Oh fuck, oh shit, Armand.”

And he splashed all over the sheets, the inside of his skull flashing white, Armand pressing his forehead into the back of his head and trembling. Daniel vaguely registered him panting and muttering something that sounded a lot like beloved and my good boy and I’ll make you feel so good if you let me, if you just let me.

It felt like the orgasm was sizzling in every single one of Daniel’s limbs, and all he could do was lie there with Armand’s cum on his back. He could feel the wetness under his dick, but after an orgasm like that, he didn’t even mind having to wash the sheets he’d changed just a few days ago.

Armand rolled off his back to slump next to him. Daniel’s cheek was pressed into the pillow with his face turned away, and he couldn’t possibly force himself to move, even though he felt like he might die if he wouldn’t see the look on Armand’s face in ten seconds.

“Oh, God”, he repeated, his voice smothered by the pillow. “Fuck. Where’d you learn to fuck like that.”

Armand laughed hoarsely but lifted his hand to the top of Daniel’s head to run his fingers through his sweaty curls. “I’ve had some practice. Are you okay?“ he asked, pressing a soft, light kiss to his pale shoulder blade.

“Yeah, I’m okay”, Daniel managed to get out, even though he felt like he’d gotten a personal invitation to ninth cloud. He managed to muster enough willpower and body control to turn his head to see Armand basking in the sunlight – his tousled hair and the gold in his dark eyes. “Can’t believe you don’t mind my hairy ass. Or I assume you don’t since you just dry humped me to the moon and back and you’re not, you know, complaining.”

“I don’t mind your hairy ass? Daniel, as long as we’re not dating, you’re not allowed to shave anything below your chin. That’s a new boundary for me.”

Daniel grinned sleepily, burying his nose into his shoulder. “Oh, you’re into hairy dudes. Like bears or something.”

Armand smiled but not entirely carefree. “I don’t know. I’m mostly into you right now, I‘m afraid.”

“Admirable dedication to your part.”

“Right.” Armand was quiet for a while before brushing a sweaty curl away from Daniel’s brow. “But all jokes aside, that had to be kind of... intense.” He studied Daniel’s face carefully.

“Yeah, not quite the same as a hand job in high school”, Daniel muttered and Armand’s grip, which had slid back to his hair, tightened. A lazy moan crawled out of Daniel’s mouth and through narrowed eyes he examined Armand clearly trying to conceal his smile. “Did you do it on purpose?”

“Which part?”

“My, um…” Armand’s grip on his scalp tightened again. “Well, that, for example. Or the good boy thing. Or how I, uh... beg for it. The girls. All of that.”

Armand smiled and leaned in to poke Daniel’s nose with his. Daniel was dying to kiss him, slow and wet, but it was probably wise of Armand to keep it light and sweet. Daniel’s breath was certainly not at its freshest and the threat of another boner so soon after such a violent orgasm felt unthinkable, but was entirely plausible.

“Everything I do is on purpose, Daniel.” Armand made his name sound like good boy. Daniel bit his bottom lip and closed his eyes. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” He opened his eyes slowly. “I want to brush my teeth, drink a cup of coffee, get my morning cigarette and kiss you. Not necessarily in that order.”

Armand leaned in to press such a chaste kiss on his neck that it made Daniel’s stomach flutter. “Let’s go then.”

When they left the room (separately, because suddenly Daniel got shy and wanted to take a quick shower alone) and finally found some breakfast in the kitchen, Louis was already seated at the table and kept watching them behind a coffee mug with his head slightly tilted.

Maybe he thought he saw something; something in the ease of Daniel’s smile or the way he turned towards Armand like a sunflower worshipping the sun. Or in Armand’s serenity, or the casual way with which he moved Daniel out of his way by patting his ass.

Maybe he saw something real.

How the fuck was Daniel supposed to know.