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He says it as a joke one night when they’re leaving for the club. Marius has trimmed his hair but it’s not perfect; it’s a little messy and hanging over one of his eyes, and his pants are tight and his shirt isn’t buttoned all the way. Daniel’s surprised that it looks so natural, he’s even impressed. His blazer sleeves are pushed up his forearms and his watch looks expensive. He takes a quick glance at it before raising an eyebrow at Daniel. Maybe he’s trying to point out that they’re late, but Daniel wasn’t good at stuff like that when he was alive and he sure as shit hasn’t gotten better at it.
“Come on,” Marius says, and steps past him, walks towards the door. His thumb dances over his iPhone screen, checking on their ride.
And Daniel says it as a joke. He slaps Marius on the ass and ignores the scandalized look on his face as he leans in close to his ear to say: “Sure thing, Daddy.”
But something Daniel has learned over the years is that Marius isn’t the prude he pretends to be. It’s an act the way his patience is an act.
Daniel knows this intrinsically somehow. He isn’t sure when all the pieces came together, but it’s because of all the years drinking from Marius. He was somewhere else for so much of it, hiding somewhere small and deep, but as he slowly unfolded it seemed like all this knowledge was stored away in him. He doesn’t remember visions in the Blood, doesn’t remember even drinking from him, really. Not in any specific way. He knows it happened and that’s about it. But he knows things now, about Marius.
So it’s a joke, but he thinks maybe he struck a nerve.
It’s a test, he guesses. He tries it again a few weeks later. This time it’s in public, on their way into a gallery. Marius holds the door and Daniel winks, and his hand lingers as he traces the underside of Marius’s jaw with his knuckles. “Thanks, Daddy,” he says, and it’s loud enough that anyone can hear. Marius’s face goes a little bit red.
It’s hazy, buried somewhere, but something tells him that Marius likes this. Like, he knows it on the surface, for sure. He can see it in the way Marius pretends he’s ashamed. But there’s something else, maybe something he saw in the Blood once. He can’t be sure.
The third time it’s in a restaurant. Daniel doesn’t understand Marius’s need to blow as much money as he possibly can on things they can’t even enjoy, but he goes along with it. Marius buys him a nice suit that costs more than anything Daniel ever owned as a human, and he’s wearing subtle cologne that make Daniel’s knees feel rubbery. If Marius likes to play human around town and pretend to eat food and sit there inhaling the scent of wine in a nice restaurant, Daniel will play along. To be honest, he sort of misses being doted on like this.
So he says it again as they’re being seated. He’s grinning and it comes out of the corner of his mouth. “You’re such a gentleman, Daddy,” he says as Marius pulls out his chair. But there’s a cold hand on his shoulder as he sits, and as Marius pushes the chair in he leans in close to Daniel’s ear.
“Don’t provoke me.”
Fuck.
It’s all he can think about the whole hour they’re there, and Marius stares hard the entire time. It reminds him of how Armand used to be, except it’s… bigger . He feels completely transparent, like Marius can see every thought in his head, and Marius gives him a little wink to confirm his suspicions.
They don’t speak for most of the evening, and Daniel’s keyed up and starting to get hungry by the time they get home. He’s thinking about going to hunt, and might even go alone, because there’s an energy around Marius that feels intense and he isn’t sure how to be around it.
But Marius closes the front door behind them, and his movements are slow, and he’s fussing with his cufflinks when he turns back around.
“Daniel,” he says. Calm. “We need a word.”
Is it possible for his throat to go dry, as a vampire? He thinks it does. He tries to swallow around it. “What’s up?”
Marius comes in closer and touches the side of Daniel’s throat. He must be able to feel the the flutter of Daniel’s carotid artery, uneven and excited like a baby animal.
“You do know…” he pauses, narrows his eyes. “You do know that if you want something, you only have to ask, don’t you?”
“Uh, yeah. Sure.”
God, and the arousal surges in his chest. It’s been thirty years in the Blood and he still hasn’t learned how to compartmentalize his sexuality. Marius’s shoulders are broad, his posture powerful. He radiates strength and age and Daniel remembers being human, the way Armand used to give him the fucking creeps. He doesn’t feel that same sense of revulsion around Marius, no. Now he’s one of them. But he still gets the same sense of being small, helpless, and Marius exudes something like regency .
If they were human he’d be on his knees right now, clawing at Marius’s belt buckle.
“I remember this feeling, you know,” Marius says. He leans in and presses his lips to Daniel’s temple. “You are still so very young.”
The thirst pitches, but he realizes it isn’t true hunger. It’s not the weak, aching feeling he gets when he truly needs to feed. But he can’t stop thinking about Marius’s blood, the way the color rises and falls in the veins in his forearm, the strong bones of his wrist. It’s been a long time; he thinks he hasn’t fed from Marius since he’s come back into himself, and while the memories from before are hazy he can remember those parts. The taste of him, the way he breathes when Daniel’s teeth sink in. He wants it again.
Fuck, is he… is this horniness? He’s not sure he’s felt this way as a vampire before.
Marius laughs, low next to his ear. Daniel’s heart thuds in his chest.
“Please…” he whispers. He puts his hands against Marius’s hard body, slips them beneath his suit jacket. “Can I?”
“Is that how you ask? Are we shy now?”
Daniel’s cheeks go hot and he pulls back to look into Marius’s face. Marius isn’t much taller, but his authority fills the room and Daniel feels like he’s shrinking.
“Please, Daddy,” he says. “Can I taste you?”
“Of course you can, child.”
So there’s a soothing hand guiding him by the hair, and Marius is tilting his head to make space, and the blood bursts in a hot gush when Daniel’s teeth sink into his throat. It’s the most conscious he’s ever been for this, and it fills his mouth, rich and red, and he doesn’t swallow until it feels like it might drip out. He presses the tip of his tongue to the wounds so that they stay open, and he can’t feel his body but Marius has an arm around his waist to keep him upright.
And there’s visions here, he sees them. And he thinks maybe he saw them before, and they’ve been hiding where he couldn’t access. It’s new, but feels familiar, and it throbs in his chest.
It’s Armand, stripped from the years of cynicism. The same body, the same face, but he’s different. Human and sweet, uncorrupted. Cheeks ruddy and eyes glassy, and he’s licking his lips and trying not to laugh.
Good evening, Father , he says. Marius’s hand tightens in Daniel’s hair and Daniel groans.
Daniel hears that same voice echoing around the back of his head, centuries later, dark. I respect that you’re behaving, Daniel. I do. I can hear every thought in your dirty little mind.
Marius laughs. He squeezes Daniel around the ribs and begins to pull him away.
“Bite me,” he pants, his mouth still wet. He claws at Marius’s shirt. “Bite me, Daddy. Please.”
There’s a beat of silence, and Marius isn’t moving, barely breathing. He doesn’t blink as he studies Daniel’s face. He brushes Daniel’s bangs out of the way.
“I wonder what I should do about you.”