"All right everyone, move your bodies!" shouted the DJ.
And Daniel did.
Raising his arms above his head, he moved, as he was told (he always did as he was told). His shirt clung to his skin with sweat, his heart was pounding and his blood was boiling and singing in his veins.
Of course, a lot of it was alcohol-induced, there was no getting around that. But as he rolled his hips and leaned his head back, he knew there was more to it. He had something very akin to the elixir of life running through him, and the knowledge that he was living a dream that nobody else would ever be able to touch, no matter how far they stretched, was better than drugs.
And he'd always loved nightclubs and discos. The lights were blinding, blinking on and off in his eyes and even inside his mind, by the feel of it. They mesmerized him and made him forget everything but the moment. Red, blue, green, purple, and a white one which flickered so rapidly it made all movements seem jagged. The club looked like a robot party. He laughed dizzily at the thought.
It was all too tempting to just close his eyes and lose what little contact he still had with the waking world. To let the intoxicating music wrap around him. It seemed to consist of so many different little parts, and tonight he could hear all of them, they were all clear to him. It was like taking apart a huge puzzle and examining each piece until it yielded secrets more fantastical than you could have imagined. And then putting the whole shabang back together again to create something bigger than life.
The heavy eighties beat pounded through the floor. Daniel could feel the vibrations through his feet and up his legs. His thighs quivered inside with it, he felt it in his groin and in his mind. It was the strangest sensation, and he knew that he could never get enough of it. He would dance all night if he could keep on his feet for that long. There was no telling how long he'd been moving, but he didn't feel tired yet. When you can feel the music romping around in your blood, dancing is an altogether different experience.
He could feel all sorts of things lately. Like the gazes that followed his every movement. Nearly all the women in the club wanted him, and also a few of the men. Even with his back to them, he could feel the way their eyes would inevitably stop by the slightly underfed stranger with the transparent shirt and the pale hair which seemed to change colour with the lights. Those who came close enough to see his eyes never stopped staring.
He grinned lazily at a pretty boy of about nineteen who had been ogling him all night. The boy hastily put his drink on a table, seemingly afraid that he would spill it. Daniel could only grin again.
Look at me now, you motherfucking antique.
Half an hour later found him dancing next to the boy, and they were attracting the attention of several club-goers of every age and sex. Nobody could take their eyes off of them. Their bodies were so close he could not get an arm in between them if he tried. Naturally, he didn't try. The boy was sliding and grinding against him, his thigh resting warmly against Daniel's for a short moment, before he moved again, and an arm would come slipping around Daniel's waist, pulling them flush together. A perfect moment, and then separation. Colder air rushed in between them as they moved apart. The boy was obviously aroused, his eyes half-closed and he was smiling like someone who didn't really know where he was anymore. But then again, Danny thought, I bet I am, too.
He was just enjoying himself immensely when he noticed out of the corner of his eye that his audience had diminished. Something was definitely causing a stir a couple meters away, as people were parting and moving, the sea of the crowd rippling. Biblical, eh. The seas parting and all.
At first, his foggy brain was only mildly disappointed at being deprived of his adoring audience. Their loss, after all. But when even his dancing partner started to become distracted, he stopped moving altogether, rather pissed. This was too much. The boy had slowly started moving away from him, looking at something over his shoulder.
Okay, so now what? he mentally sighed. You got some big bad boyfriend who's gonna come smack me around? Might have told me a little earlier, but okay. What the fuck. I'm Daniel Molloy, and I'm king of the fucking world.
These words still ringing between his ears, he turned defiantly.
And jumped about a foot.
There, in the club, among the sweat and the filth and the gritty mortality, was a – a vision in black clothes that clung to its body in places like a second skin, leaving nothing to the imagination. It was immortal. It was familiar. And it was staring at Daniel with cold, slow and painful murder in its eyes.
"Holy Jesus in a tutu, you scared me!" he yelped, before he could stop himself.
His heart was going a mile a minute. Covering it with his hand, he tried to catch his breath. Brown eyes were just observing him, drinking in his appearance – the thin body, the see-through shirt, the tight pants that completely betrayed his state of mind. All in all, the state of complete debauchery, as no doubt his grandmother would have called it.
Gradually, Danny began to realize that the reason for said debauchery was still hovering somewhere beside and behind him. The tiny glance he threw in this direction alerted Armand to the boy's presence, and his eyes darkened to almost black. The boy seemed to shrink until nobody even remembered the difference between them in height.
Danny watched, hypnotised, as immortal lips parted to reveal shimmering teeth.
My, what a fucking gorgeous mouth you have.
Yes, pet. All the better to eat you with.
He shuddered.
"And who, pray tell, might you be?" inquired the vampire now, laying his hand on the boy's shoulder. The youth flinched, but his chin was raised.
"I – my name is Tony. I – we were just dancing, man. It's not like he's your bitch or something, is it? Because," he laughed nervously, "you seriously need to lighten up…"
One eyebrow lifted, the perfect Cupid's bow lips curled ever so slightly. Again, Daniel watched.
"Yes," drawled the rose petals maliciously, "In layman's terms, that is exactly what it's 'like'. Now, you'll excuse us."
The moment the Eyes turned to Danny, he knew he was in deep shit.
Armand didn't seem angry. But then, he never seemed angry. Daniel could still tell. He wondered why other people couldn't. Whenever Armand was pissed, it would radiate off him like hellfire, you'd have to be blind not to notice.
But it just so happened that most people in this club, even though they were watching so intently their eyes nearly fell out, hungrily and unabashedly letting their gaze roam all over the vampire's body, did not notice how mad he was.
When he held out his hand to Daniel, it was calmly, and the hand was steady. That was all they saw.
When brown eyes bored into violet ones and Daniel closed his own hand around the smaller, white one in what looked like a drug-induced daze, letting himself get walked out of there like someone's lapdog, they vaguely wondered why he was letting himself get bossed around by someone nearly half his age.
Ah, good people, if you only knew. 'Tis a tale most fantastical indeed.
The way out of the club was silent. Armand had let go of his hand the moment they left the dance floor, and was now walking with his hands in the pockets of his black jeans. Daniel couldn't remember seeing those pants before, but he knew he liked them. What he did not like, however, was getting this distracted by the sight of a gorgeous dead body in a sexy pair of jeans when he was so irritated he didn't know what to say. Finally he said the first thing that came to mind.
"You tricked me!"
It only earned him an innocent look, as Armand stopped on the sidewalk.
"Tricked you?"
"Yes! Tricked me!" cried Daniel exasperatedly. "You did some mumbo-jumbo with my mind in there, go on and admit it."
"I don't know what you mean, love. I assure you –"
Daniel let out a cry of rage and kicked a nearby trashcan, pretending it was Armand's face.
That was it, that was once too many.
"You complete asshole," he yelled at the can, venting weeks of frustration. "You lying, cheating son of a bitch!"
The boy walking with him didn't move a muscle, looking for all appearances like a clothed church ornament left on an N. Y. sidewalk. Only his eyes gave him away as a living creature. For each word, they grew bigger and sadder until he reminded Daniel of nothing so much as a miserable Basset hound.
"I never lied to you."
He almost didn't hear it over his own muttered oaths and the faint clanging of the can as it rolled back and forth. The voice was so low and sounded so sincere, he would have been more than prepared to believe anything it had to say. But there was no fucking way he was doing that again.
He whirled around with his hand raised. He wanted to strike, he really did. He wanted to smack that pretty face around so badly…
Dark eyes alighted on his raised arm, but Armand made no move to defend himself. Neither of them moved. In his mind Danny could hear the sharp crack of flesh on flesh, but something was staying his hand. In his weakness the moment dragged on, became unbearable. Only the soft whoosh of traffic could be heard over his own harsh breathing.
Before he was even aware that he had lowered his hand, Daniel had turned away and was facing the wall and the overturned trashcan which had fallen victim to his earlier fury. He knew he was sitting on the ground when his knees crashed into something hard and cold.
There were tiny fissures in the asphalt, and in them had gathered the clearest of water drops. Funny how he could see these things so clearly…
"Daniel."
A hand on his shoulder, gently squeezing.
"Daniel, love. I know it's hard." Cool, dry breath ghosting over his ear and neck, moving a few hairs. He shuddered and turned his head to face his familiar.
There were red tears shining in the vampire's eyes. Of course. Here we go, he thought cynically.
"Daniel, come with me. Please. Come home with me, talk with me. You must. How can I help you if I don't know what the matter is?"
Of course, Armand said things like that all the time. Didn't mean he was honest. The decisive matter for Daniel was the fact that Armand was kneeling on the wet ground in clothes that must have cost a fortune, in plain view, on a New York street. He meant it. There could be no doubt that he meant it. (And if he thought logically about it - the earnest eyes, the tears and the way his anger had completely disappeared were also worth considering.)
All of a sudden, Daniel wanted to lie down and sleep. He was exhausted and his head was swimming unpleasantly.
Heavily he leaned against the vampire next to him. He buried his face in the crook of his neck, nuzzling his long hair. There was a faint smell of a perfume which he'd always loved.
Gently, so gently, the immortal shifted, to make holding him easier. Long-fingered hands were stroking his neck and caressing his hair. Daniel sighed deeply.
Minutes passed in this fashion. All was quiet around them, and he could hear the immortal boy's heart beat, strong and calm. This heart would beat on forever, in the same fashion. And his own would falter one day, would stutter, become erratic and weak. Frail.
And then it would be over. No more warmth, no more light. He could never again talk with his loved ones, he could never drink wine or smoke a fine cigar. There would be no more bourbon, even if he felt in the mood for it.
And Armand wouldn't be there with him either. No strong immortal arms to hold him close and whisper in his ear that he was safe and protected from all harm. No kisses, no more hot intoxication. No love. Armand would go on without him, would move further and further away with the tide that was Time, while Daniel stood at a standstill and rotted in the ground. Like when a watch gets broken at the time of a crime, so the police can tell when the victim died. That would be Danny. A defined lifespan, while Armand would just continue living on and on… alone.
It was a revelation.
Sitting on the sidewalk in one of the most dangerous cities in the world, he suddenly realised how long eternity was. He'd never tried to imagine forever before, it had just been a word he hurled at Armand when they argued, and Armand hurled back. Now, however, he thought he had some idea of how long it might be. And the knowledge was impressive, to say the least.
He didn't want Armand to be alone forever. Slowly he raised his head to look at the youth, and lovingly kissed the soft curls at his temple.
"Did you say home?"
Armand smiled.
"I did, beloved. Does this mean you'll come?"
He politely refrained from commenting that he didn't have a choice.
"It does."
Smiling, he untangled their limbs and let Armand help him up. They were slightly wet, and a light rain had started falling. He didn't much care.
The only thing that mattered at present was that he actually loved this person next to him. No matter how infuriating, no matter how childish or how tyrannical he could be, Daniel loved him.
What a novel concept.
And he'd realised another thing, too. He could use this. If ever the subject of immortality arose again, all he had to do was hint at how horribly lonely it must be, and how he wouldn't want Armand to spend it without a lover. He knew it was a touchy subject, knew he was onto something. If Armand saw that he genuinely cared… that was the one thing he could never resist. Sooner or later he had to crack.
Daniel allowed himself a satisfied smile as he slung one arm around Armand's waist. Things were definitely looking up.