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I am a Jackson Pollock worth billions, Daniel thinks, looking down at his chest and belly. Someone else, say Louis, might compare his blood spattered body to one of the putrid and rotten abstracts painted by Lestat’s more “devoted” haematophilic fans but this, Daniel would insist, is art. Later, once he’s not distracted, Daniel can hop on his computer and join the online debate on modern art’s merits. Or not, he doesn’t give much of a fuck either way. Armand could cleave his dick off and duck tape it to a museum wall if the impulse struck him and it’d be beyond criticism in his eyes. Of course, the impulse wouldn’t strike because Armand loves his dick. He loves it so much he’s currently slamming himself down on it while he bites straight through his bottom lip in an attempt to hold back his screams. It’s frantic and blood is flying everywhere as armand bounces wildly and alternates between whipping his head back in ecstasy and pressing his drooling, wounded mouth to Daniel’s, letting saliva drip all over them.
Now, normally this would be the dream, a hot lithe body sheathing his cock and writhing in his lap is never cause for complaint, especially when said body has perky nipples that are bouncing in his face with every movement and are just asking to be taken between his teeth and bitten until they’re raw, but in this instance an exception has to be made. It’s on Daniel, really. He’ll take the blame. He’s the caregiver, the “grown up” in this dynamic and he should have kept better track of his schedule. If he had, he'd have realized that thirty minutes before a Teams meeting with his lawyer, Lestat’s lawyer Christine, and their presiding judge isn’t the best time to be sitting on the couch acting as a dildo to his regressed companion. His companion who, up until just a few days ago, had never had sex in his regressed state and has already decided that “horsey” position is one of his favorites. It allows Armand to get all his pent up, fidgety energy out and Daniel likes how he gets to see each miniscule reaction on his boy’s face to every vein and ridge of his cock as he pulls off it and sinks back down. Whatever reservations he previously had about fucking Armand when he’s “little” have been thrown out the window because this is right and he knows that now. There’s no possibility it could be anything other than kismet with the way Armand’s body feels like it was molded just for him. The curve of his waist fits perfectly in Daniel’s broad palms and the width of it is so supple and easily grabbable, which is to Daniel’s advantage in times like these where he needs to manhandle Armand into obeying. He grips Armand’s soft waist and hoists him up so he’s held in the air with only half of Daniel’s cock still inside him. Unable to drop back down, Armand is making frustrated whiny noises and struggling with all his might against the unyielding hands that prevent him from continuing to fuck his own brains out.
“Let me go! Not done. I’m not done!” Armand spits, eyes vibrating and fangs bared as he keeps trying to break free. Daniel won’t lie, all this wriggling around while Armand’s insides are defiantly gripping Daniel’s cock is driving him insane and he kind of wants to say fuck the meeting, let his lawyer deal with whatever shit Christine is flinging at him by himself. Why does he need to be consulted on decisions he knows nothing about and is apt to royally fuck up despite receiving what is advertised as the best legal advice in the state? Unfortunately, as much as he’d love to sit back and use his huffy, squirming kid as a fleshlight while the swift hand of justice cracks down on whomever’s ass it may, Lestat, the image obsessed brat, is filing a huge defamation lawsuit against his ass so he can’t. Being that there’s not much of an ass there to begin with, he'd like to keep his as uncracked as possible–just the one down the middle is fine with him. And so, now he must deal with the nuclear bomb of a fit Armand is pitching in his arms. He has created a monster, a terror, a sex fiend with an explosive intolerance for not getting his way.
The consequences of Daniel’s own actions are hitting him in the face–literally. In his rage, Armand has sent the various knick knacks and toys that litter the living room airborne and one particularly well aimed Zhu Zhu Pet has been sent flying projectile into the side of his head.
“Fuck! Hey, hey! Stop it! You want to get put in time out?” He’s digging his claws deep in Armand’s flank and winces when he feels them slip and shred gashes into Armand’s side as he thrashes around.
“No! Please, no time out!”
“Well, that’s what you’re going to get if you don’t settle down.”
Armand begins to sob, his mouth opening and closing like a fish as he tries to take in large gulps of air, always greatly and genuinely distressed by the threat of that method of punishment in particular and Daniel immediately feels bad using that knowledge against him. It’s the only thing that works sometimes, so as cruel as it is, Daniel, in times of desperation and out of options, will stoop low enough to weaponize it. That doesn’t mean he enjoys doing it though. He enjoys hurting Armand in certain contexts and in certain pre agreed upon sexual ways sure, but this isn’t one of them. He tries very hard to be a good dad to his boy and maybe that’s some residual guilt from his reputationally bad parenting of his actual daughters rearing its ugly head but regardless, he has grown soft and has a weak stomach for any tears that spill from Armand’s eyes.
Daniel finally retracts his claws and loosens his hold on Armand, lowering him down slowly so his bottom is sitting flush against Daniel’s thighs, and pulls him into his chest, enfolding him in his strong arms and stroking his damp curls with gentle reverence.
“Okay, no time out. I’m sorry I had to be so rough with you.”
“S’okay…”
Turning his head so that he can try and meet Armand’s eye, Daniel says “Listen, baby. Daddy’s a big dummy and forgot he has a meeting real soon. Like T-minus 30 soon so we gotta wrap this party up.”
Armand shoots up from his hunched position, indignant and starts to rock himself on Daniel’s cock again. “Nuh-uh!”
“Yeah-huh and don’t give me that look–that little two-for-one scowl and glare like I’m the most evil bad guy in the world for depriving you of something you shouldn’t even be having in the first place.”
“Five more minutes? Please, daddy.”
He’s weak. Daniel is so weak. “Five minutes on the dot. So giddy up, cowboy. It’s crunch time.” Armand giggles at that phrase like Daniel knew he would and his breathless giggles turn into moans soon enough once he finds the right angle and rhythm again. Like a coach with a stopwatch, Daniel steals peeks at his vintage Patek Philippe while Armand rides him and chases his orgasm, panting against Daniel’s neck like he’s running laps around a track.
Having those small, plush lips mouthing at his pulse point and sending warm puffs of sweet scented breath fanning across his face makes Daniel snap and he grabs a fistful of Armand’s hair, tugging it back until Armand’s neck is vulnerably displayed and pierces the taunt skin with his fangs, growling as they sink all the way in. The second the blood hits his tongue he’s thrusting his hips up, sharply driving his cock along Armand’s prostate with precision again and again. Pushed to the edge by the warmth thrumming in his veins and the high pitched “Ah!”s that keep getting knocked out of Armand’s throat, Daniel thrusts up one more time and comes, cock jerking as it shoots rope after rope of cum into the tight passage it’s buried in. He basks in the post orgasm bliss for a few seconds before Armand kills it by shifting impatiently and innocently asking, “Has it been five minutes yet?”
“Huh? What?” Looking at his watch lazily he sees it has been way longer than the allotted five minutes and if he doesn’t haul ass he’s going to miss the meeting.
“Oh fuck! Up you get, c’mon.”
Armand shakes his head and makes a futile attempt to clench his abused hole around Daniel, not wanting him to pull out even now that he’s gone soft but Daniel’s cock slips out anyway and Daniel forces him to stand on wobbly legs, erection still sticking up hard and proud.
“I didn’t come!”
“Sorry about that, bud. I gotta hurry and get ready. Christine is fucking unbearable to deal with when she’s been inconvenienced and if we lose this suit…shit, they’ll take everything. Say goodbye to forty dollar Jellycats. Your new craft corner is going to be some sticks and whatever garbage juice you can scrape off the sidewalk.” And with an unnecessary groan of exertion, Daniel scoops Armand up bridal style and starts down the hallway to Armand’s room.
“Yucky! Christine is mean to you. I don’t like her,” Armand says snootily, reaching a finger out to pull on an errant curl that is dangling in the middle of Daniel’s forehead and watching it bounce back into place.
“Yeah? You and me both, baby. I’m going to get us out of this mess and you’ll never have to hear about her again.”
“Okay. And don’t let her take Jellycats away, please. Cause there’s new ones I want. There’s Budgeby Parrot; Wonda Wombat; Ewert Sheepdog, he looks like you, daddy; and one that is a coconut with a flower on it. It has a straw I think would be nice to chew on and…”
Daniel tunes out Armand’s babbling as he opens the door to the bedroom and rushes in.
“But you said no time out!”
“It’s not time out, honey. You’re just going to sit and play with your toys and Ipad and I’ll come get you when the call is over.”
Because everything warrants dramatics, Armand twists out of his arms and lands on the floor with a reverberant thud that rattles the shadow box frames on the wall and probably wakes up the whole building. Great, like they really needed another thing for the neighbors to show up and complain about but jokes on them; he’s fucking their landlord which means he has eviction immunity. They can deal with the running, fighting, or headboard banging throughout the night or they can find another rent-controlled apartment in the Upper East Side. He and Armand aren’t going anywhere…yet. Not until they have to.
“And that was totally necessary of course.”
“Mhmm. It was.”
Rolling over so he’s on his back and yanking a blue stuffed dog out from where it got trapped underneath him, Armand looks it over, makes an obvious assessment: “squished,” and hugs it in apology.
“See, you have Doggy with you so be good and I’ll be right back.”
Armand just pouts and fixes his tear lined kitten-dumped-at-a-kill-shelter eyes on Daniel and lifts Doggy Dad’s weighted paw up and waves it side to side sadly as he watches him pull the door closed. Before it clicks shut Daniel hears Armand’s voice say softly, “Have a good meeting, daddy.” It makes his heart ache as if he wasn’t in the same goddamn apartment and could bring his laptop to Armand’s room if he really wanted to. He is as overly attached to Armand as Armand is to him and would love to never spend a second of their immortal lives apart but he also values his reputation and his money and he doesn’t trust the nascent sex-kitten to behave himself and not climb into his lap mid meeting and gift everyone with a view of his cute ass. Judge Edwards is nearing 80 years old and human; it might send him to a timely grave to see that. Not that it would be their fault. The sucker should’ve skipped law school and spent his twenties and thirties fucking a pretty boy vampire so good he had to turn him just to keep his dick around but we can’t all cheat death. There is a time and place for average dick and that’s within a mortal lifespan and a crematorium.
After making himself look somewhat presentable (just throwing his wrinkled shirt back on and wiping whatever bodily fluid is currently crusting on his eyelids together off his face), double checking his mic and camera, and chucking on his noise cancelling headphones, Daniel is ready to get this shit show on the road as quickly as possible so he can pick up where he left off: making Armand come.
The whole thing lasts nearly two hours. The last half hour consisting solely of a yelling match between Christine and himself as Judge Edwards and Daniel’s useless lawyer with a deflated balloon for a brain wait in silence for them to be finished. And, to make everything worse, Lestat couldn’t even be bothered to grace them with his virtual presence. It’s not like he’s trying to sue Daniel for all he’s worth!
“He’s a world famous rockstar with more important things to do, Daniel. He’s busy.”
“He’s busy? Him? Christine, I’m busy! I’m so fucking busy my dick is still wet from emptying my balls inside my gorgeous fucking boyfriend. You’ve seen him haven’t you, Christine? Yeah, I know you’ve seen how gorgeous he is. He’s fucking gorgeous and I had to pull him off my flaccid dick to be at this meeting. And you know why, Christine? I’ll tell you why. It’s because when I say I’ll show up, I show up. And it’s because even when said gorgeous boyfriend is done milking my geriatric dick and it’s limp like a dead fucking subway rat, it’s still bigger than Lestat’s fully hard! You call him and tell him I said that, Christine. Christine, call him and tell him I said he better show up next time so he can tell me exactly how I’m misrepresenting his pathetic, crybaby, mommy fucking, husband beating ass or I’m not doing this again. Goodbye.”
Slamming his laptop shut, Daniel decides he needs his angel curled up by his side prattling on about arthropod facts while Daniel jerks him off until he can’t speak and he needs it now. When he stalks over to Armand’s room and knocks to let the kid know he’s coming in, he finds that Armand has beaten him to the punch.
The sight that greets him is like a crime scene photo or something off LiveLeak. Armand is unconscious and sprawled out where he left him on the floor but now he’s covered in blood-cum in varying states of dryness and spanning from his inner thighs all the way up to his forehead. There is so much blood coating his stomach that for a second Daniel wonders if Armand went into the kitchen, grabbed a knife, and stabbed himself. Concerningly, he wouldn’t put it past him to do that but he doesn’t see a knife anywhere. Instead, what he does see is Armand’s Ipad unlocked and glowing next to him, smudged with bloody fingerprints and displaying Google Image results for the search “daneel muloy” where only one of the pictures is of him. He’ll give props to Google this one time for being able to decipher Armand’s attempt at a decoded spelling of his name enough to accomplish that. Just because it might make a funny story to tell Armand once he’s back to his normal state, he takes a look at the rest of Armand’s recent search history and what it reveals makes him coo out loud; it’s that precious.
“dad”
“dadee”
“daneel”
He kneels down beside Armand and strokes a delicate cheekbone with the back of his fingers. The combination of Daniel’s long drink on the couch and all the cum released out of his body has resulted in Armand’s skin feeling like cool silk, the cold side of the pillow, or a fresh raindrop on the singed landscape of his mind.
Armand reacts in his sleep by turning his head towards the source of the comforting touch and nuzzling closer. Daniel positions himself behind Armand and pulls his sleep heavy boy halfway into his lap so he can pepper kisses along his hairline, rocking him and humming a mindless ditty as he trails a hand down Armand’s torso. Once his hand engulfs the spent cock between Armand’s velvety thighs he feels him begin to stir, roused by overstimulation.
“Hi, daddy,” gets groggily mumbled into Daniel’s forearm as Armand gives it sharp nips and pets the gray hairs that dust it.
“Welcome back, sleepyhead. Someone was busy, huh?” gesturing down at the mess Armand all over himself. “Have fun?”
“Uhm…kinda? Couldn’t help it. It felt so tingly and it wouldn’t stop. I touched it to make the slimy stuff come out and it made it better but the tingles came back again. I called for you but you didn’t come.”
“I was in a meeting, remember? I had my headphones on and you know how good those things are at getting rid of loud noises. But you were a big boy doing all this by yourself while I was gone! You’re so grown up you don’t even need me anymore.”
Daniel wants to get slapped silly–cartoon style– the second he realizes what he just said and how Armand will take it.
“No, I’m not big! I need you. I need you to take care of me. I’m little and you have to take care of me!”
“I know, sweetheart. I will, Scout’s honor. I just thought you should feel proud of yourself for being independent.”
“But I don’t want to be in the pendant. I want to be with you.”
Armand moves to sit up but Daniel pulls him back down and relishes in the adorable “uh!” of surprise it evokes.
“You’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking. Of course you need me. You’re too little to take care of yourself like this. Daddy is just being stupid, again. You’re such a good kid. Way too good for me. I don’t deserve you at all.”
“Not too good. You’re the bestest daddy in the world.”
Daniel wants to say by process of elimination, maybe and it’s not exactly like the men you’re comparing me to are stand up guys so I don’t know how flattered I can really be but he holds his tongue. He has inundated Armand with enough of his baggage already and that’s without bringing up Armand’s past too which he makes a point not to do when the kid is regressed. He’ll comfort him during his night terrors and watch him reenact gut wrenching memories with his toys but unless Armand brings the topic up first, Daniel keeps it out of bounds for himself. This whole regression thing is Armand’s way of escaping from it and allowing himself to feel safe and secure for once in his life so he isn’t going to ruin that for him with his own bullshit. Kids are sensitive and get upset easily and Armand especially so. Luckily Daniel is good at diversion. Or in this case, getting back on track.
Wrapping his hand back around Armand’s cock wipes all thoughts of inadequacy and abandonment from either of their minds. After a couple of pumps Armand has only grown imperceptibly hard.
“It won’t work. I broke it. Before I was asleep I touched it and nothing came out. There were just the fuzzies in my head and my ears were loud like bells. And then…black.”
“I see. Do you know how many times your head had fuzzies?”
“Ten or eight or nine times. I think six. I didn’t count, I just did it a lot.”
“Well, even rounding up you’ve gone more rounds than that before. You were big but still, it’s the same body so how about trying for one more? You think you can do that for your old man?”
“Okay…I will try. For you.”
“You just gotta relax and it’ll happen. Here, hold your stuffie.” Handing over the blue dog for Armand to cuddle, Daniel starts stroking long and slow and making sure to add a subtle twist to his wrist around the head. Determination wins out and eventually Armand is hard again and unable to hold back his pained whimpers when Daniel picks up the pace. If he were any less of a sadist he’d have pity on Armand and tell him to spit in his hand to help ease the glide as Armand is barely producing any precum and the dry drag against his overstimulated cock must be making it feel like an exposed nerve but Daniel has always had a bit of an inclination towards sadism…just a bit. Armand is throwing his head side to side and making noises that bubble up from deep in his throat and the whole thing looks and sounds akin to an exorcism or torture session but fuck if it isn’t hot and doesn’t have him throbbing in his sweatpants.
“You want to finish on my cock? You were pretty upset about not being able to earlier.”
Armand doesn’t even answer and all Daniel can process is a blur of movement before Armand is fully bottoming out and not giving himself or Daniel a second to adjust before he’s throwing himself back onto Daniel’s cock at a breakneck speed. This time there’s no lip biting to muffle his screams and they’re let out completely unrestrained.
Maybe that exorcism Daniel equated Armand’s thrashing around to was actually happening in reverse because right now Armand is acting like he’s been possessed, tugging at his own hair as he rolls his hips frantically. The only indication that it’s still his angel that’s on him, claiming his cock like a throne, and not a succubus hopped up on speed is his clear wind chime voice ringing out in a delirious chant of “dad, dad, dad!”
“That’s it, baby. Keep going. I want you to come for me. I saw you looking at pictures of me to touch yourself to. You came again and again until you couldn’t take it anymore. Imagine how hard you’ll come from me inside you.”
“Scared…”
“Don’t be scared. If you pass out again I’ll lay you down on the floor and fuck you like a doll. You’ll be a good doll for your daddy, right?
“Uh-huh!”
Daniel knows he must be feeling the intensity building to a fever pitch and is powerless to stop it. Armand’s orgasm is going to crash over him and pull him under. After a few more bounces and with a small cry of, “coming!” Armand’s eyes roll back in his head and his cock gives a pitiful twitch, releasing only a small spurt of cum that barely dribbles down the head. He doesn’t pass out again but it’s a close thing and he’s so dazed and out of it that he might as well have.
Daniel flips them so Armand’s pliant body is beneath him and fucks into it. Now that Armand’s childlike desperation has been quelled, Daniel takes it slow. And while the brutal force has been lessened, the leisurely drag and push of the head of Daniel’s cock against Armand’s prostate is just as overwhelming. Unable to keep from speeding up as he gets closer, Daniel pulls out and jerks himself off over the plush tummy of his kid, painting the already dried layer of cum with a fresh coat. Armand looks down at himself dreamily and lifts his weak, shaking hand to smear the blood across his skin, turning the mess into a priceless finger painted Rothko.