A Budding Addiction
Daniel assumes that Armand is a night owl.
He wakes up to a new text the next morning asking what he thought of the new video and Daniel kind of wants to curl in on himself and die. It was sent an hour after he watched it.
It's the first time he's texting so early, but he figures the kid knows what jobs are so it won't be too weird. But also, what should he even say? What was cool?
[ SMS; to armand ] I didn't expect you'd get much use out of that thing. Glad your boy liked it.
That was fine. It didn't come off too horn-doggish. He felt like a pervert, but maybe the kid was actually asking for pointers. He guesses this was the perk of being a Silver Tier member, but for some inexplicable reason Daniel can't help but shake the feeling that something was going to go wrong sooner or later.
He'd gladly buy 30 more maid costumes if it meant he got front row tickets to seeing M rip it off of Armand. It was probably a good thing he didnt have any costumes on his wish list, right?
He gets ready for the day with Armand on his mind. For once he tries to will him to text back, checking his phone sporadically; between shaving and teeth brushing, Daniel browses his twitch and sees that he's offline, but he was streaming quite late. He puts that stream on and fast forwards to the middle, greeted by his soft, airy laughter.
He's playing Conkers Bad Fur Day and the more violence there seems to be, the more gleeful he is. Armand laughs with his head thrown back and Daniel has half the mind to pause it and stare for a bit. Only he has these self contained rituals where he pretends his self control is chivalry, but truly: he doesn't want to tip toe over the line from enjoying to obsession. And it felt like that line was slooooowwwwllyy being toed day after day.
He had things to take care of. A student to choose for his TA. It would be a little unfair to spring it on the group he's selected, but he quickly sends an email to each of them to join him at lunch.
He wasn't getting his shit together so he could watch Armand stream more. He wasn't. He was doing it for Alice. And for himself, too. If he had a TA, he could cut out 80% of the paperwork, which meant 100% more time for his hobbies.
It's been a long time since he's done any of his hobbies. Did going to bars and scoring count as a hobby? He was good at that.
But he was with Alice now and she didn't deserve that sort of uneasiness. He wanted her to know that his feelings for her were solid, tangible things; something she didn't need to wonder about.
Just as he's getting ready for class, the text he's expecting from Armand comes in.
[ SMS; armand ] what, did you expect that I'd just toss it in the trash after? I keep everything I'm sent. have you seen my PO box videos?
Daniel has seen the videos. Only vaguely, in the way one watches videos to sit with and not really watch-watch. It's very much the story of how he found Armand in the first place: he just needed a momentary distraction to keep him company while he did teacher shit.
[ SMS; to armand ] I haven't seen all of them, but I did see the one with the pillow with your face on it. The body pillow? I'm not sure. It was good, anyway. The video last night was also good, if I didn't say.
----
It's as simple as that, to peel back the formality of being internet strangers. Armand texts him throughout the day and a student even ribs him, asks if he has a girlfriend or something; he does. He's just not texting her.
But he should.
Daniel texts Alice and Armand when he gets home, sitting in the car with the window rolled down and a smoke between his teeth.
[ SMS; to armand ] Do you see all the activity on my account when I view your videos? Just curious.
[ SMS; to alice ] Thought about you all day. Let's do dinner tomorrow. Sezchuan?
A loud, grunge exhale full of smoke. Daniel ashes his cigarette and leans back against the head rest.
He wishes things were different. Not that teaching wasn't great, it fulfilled him, but it was no Manhattan nightclub at 4 am and he wasn't doing profile pieces anymore so he felt an odd disconnected feeling, like he was betraying himself. And then there was the topic of Alice.
Sweet, trusting Alice. She didn't know he was a complete piece of shit, so he gave her that, but lately it feels more and more like he was faking everything. There was no real enjoyment in anything and the fact that Armand had come into his life so abruptly was only furthering that feeling. He forgot what excitement felt like. Daniel forgot what butterflies felt like, but he feels them now when his phone vibrates and he sees that it's Armand.
[ SMS; armand ] not everything. all I get is a notification that you bought and viewed my video, but I think Marius sees all of it.
Marius? Is that M's name? What kind of name was that? It sounded Shakespearean, almost. Daniel takes a drag of his smoke, looking through the windshield momentarily.
[ SMS; to armand ] Marius? Is that M?
Immediately:
[ SMS; armand ] 😶 forget that I told you his name. please.
[ SMS; to armand ] So M is your boyfriend and business partner, is that right? Blink twice if you need help.
[ SMS; armand ] it's not like that! he just makes sure nobody hacks me. he also edits the videos. and films.
[ SMS; to armand ] so who do I thank for all the content, him or you?
For a minute he regrets sending that. It seems to border flirting. Did he want to flirt with Armand? He ponders this the entirety of the rest of his cigarette.
It's almost five when he's answered.
[ SMS; armand ] thank me 😌 I'm the muse. there'd be no Botticelli without Venus.
Did that make Marius the painter? Did Armand think he was making art here? Well. He kind of was. Daniel didn't watch enough porn to know how long was normal, but he's pretty sure his timing on getting off was at an all time low. He lasted longer during actual intercourse.
The walk up to his apartment is one spent with a smile, juggling his briefcase and book and coffee mug under an arm while he pulled his keys out to unlock the door.
It seemed like forever had passed since he'd gotten home at a reasonable hour. Usually it was dark, or he was with Alice, or he was home so late he couldn't even enjoy it.
It felt good to be home. Daniel breathes in the air and starts to undress, pulling his tie, setting his things onto the island in the kitchen.
But he wanted to text Armand first. In sly hopes that they'll continue this streak they're on.
[ SMS; to armand ] so are you guys just friends or?
A pang of regret hits Daniel just after he sends the message. What business was that of his? Maybe it was the investigative journalist in him, or maybe he was just one nosy motherfucker, whatever it was, he just wanted to know: were the twink and the camera man fucking? Was it business? Was Armand being trafficked?
A million thoughts about saving him pop into his head. And how many times had he wanted to save those just as down and out, the stories he'd take from people with less money than he had (which was, admittedly, not a lot)?
[ SMS; armand ] It's hardly fair that you're grilling me like this and I don't even know what you look like or where you live. you could be a stalker. or a pervert.
[ SMS; armand ] I'm leaning towards pervert, but I've never really been stalked before so I wouldn't know. 🤷
The energy returned brings a goofy, crooked grin to Daniels mouth. He loosens his tie and goes to his fridge, smiling the whole time, laughing about it. Okay. Yeah. He could play ball.
Between pulling out the old Chinese from two days ago and popping open a beer, he starts texting back, one handed.
[ SMS; to armand ] First thing, I ain't no stalker. I don't even have time for myself, much less the time it takes to stalk someone properly. That's a full time job on it's own.
[ SMS; to armand ] Second: the jury is still out on the other thing. Third? I live on the East Coast. I'm a writer.
When he puts the Chinese in the microwave to warm up he also takes a long tug on his beer. Texting Armand made him giddy. He wasn't hard, but he could be; it would be an easy switch. He could feel the arousal under his skin simmering, boiling with every moment he imagined the streamer sitting across from him, asking him these questions.
He'd look real pretty on his couch, that was for sure. Maybe laid out over his lap, head tucked into his hip.
[ SMS; armand ] how do you know stalking is a full time job? that sounds like something a stalker might say.
[ SMS; armand ] let me guess, romance writer? fanfiction?
The response has Daniel choke-laughing, caught off guard by the humor: he was funny. Daniel is pleasantly caught off guard by that. It seemed like Armand had it all: looks, personality, a rich boyfriend and a hefty side hustle.
This only serves to make him more interesting to Daniel. He was relishing in that moment by the time his Chinese food dings.
The food and his beer are taken to the living room, placed on the coffee table with his tea towel so he could text the kid back.
[ SMS; to armand ] I did some work on a non fiction profile based book. That sort of thing, keeping tabs and making sure you have all the information you need, it takes a lot of foot work. Nobody got time for that kind of work in today's age.
[ SMS; to armand ] I don't have the patience for fiction. I wanted to be a fiction writer, though. Real life just turned out to be more interesting.
That first bite of his warmed up leftovers has him moaning, nodding, slurping chow mein into his mouth with a starved veracity. It was hot, of course, and Daniel has to chew it tenderly, quickly taking bites and blowing the hot air out, trying to swallow it without burning a hole in his tongue.
The burn is good, he has to admit it. Even better when it's all washed down with beer. The cold froth is a balm to his poor tongue. Daniel sighs, sitting back, resting his head against the couches back.
His phone vibrates.
[ SMS; armand ] so what you're saying is that you could be a stalker but you aren't. presently. good to know.
Was that humor or sarcasm? Dan raises an eyebrow, scrolling up through their chats, slightly
[ SMS: to armand ] Hey, now. You said that. I just said I wouldn't do that. Besides, I feel like M might know if I decided to slink around his boy toy. Security expert, you said?
[ SMS; armand ] not an expert, just good with tech. but yes, he would likely know if you started stalking me.
[ SMS; to armand ] Big Brother, right?
[ SMS; armand ] he's not my big brother!
[ SMS; to armand ] Haven't you read 1984? George Orwell?
[ SMS; to armand ] Please tell me you're not too young to know George Orwell.
[ SMS; armand ] I know.......I just don't care 😤 I totally knew that.
[ SMS; to armand ] You didn't, did you?
[ SMS; armand ] this is ageism. i'm being discriminated against by a nerd with a useless degree.
Being called a nerd has Daniel laughing through his food, scooping up a mouthful with his chopsticks like he's digging it out of the bottom. It's a little cold in the middle, but he's not likely to go warm up one more mouthful so he eats it, semi-cold, and washes it down with a beer.
Now would be a good time to rub one out. But the shifting mood from formal to informal, casual almost, has Daniel a little wound up in his guilt.
If he watched one of his videos, he'd most likely know he was watching it while he was texting him. And then it would be weird. Or Armand would know and he'd bring it up and he'd have to explain why he's texting him with his dick in his hand.
Daniel decides to text back, instead.
[ SMS; to armand ] An old nerd, to boot. Put that in your pipe and smoke it.
Despite the guilt, and the knowledge that Armand would know if he did, Daniel popped open his only fans again. He scrolls through the remaining freebies: a solo video of Armand with a transparent flesh light, a video of him playing with a vibrator against his cock and one more with M; this time with Armand grinding against his thigh while he stands against the backdrop to the kids streamer set up.
He can tell it's the streamer set up because there are posters taped to the wall, haphazard pieces of art sporadically placed here and there.
He starts there. Because for some reason he likes M. Or maybe he just likes what he does to Armand. Likes the way he commands his body like it belongs to him, like he knows every crook and secret to unravelling him piece by piece.
Daniel gets one more text. Just one.
[ SMS; armand ] enjoy the video, daniel m.
He fucking knew it.
Armand was watching like a hawk.
Shit.
Why was that as arousing as it was? Knowing that Armand knew, that he....what, liked it? Liked that he knew he was watching? It was surprisingly difficult to shake the feeling that M and Armand were watching. Maybe that's what has his cock twitching in his slacks, curiously trying to wake up before he even made it through the only fans logo on the front page.
The video opens with a wide shot of Marius and Armand standing at the wall, closed in an embrace.
[ SMS; armand ] oh and I suggest ear buds. it's better with ear buds.
Armand's chat floats up at the top of his screen momentarily. Daniel only waits a moment before he's up, throwing his phone onto the next cushion in search of his ear buds. Ear phones? He didn't use them. But there was a pair that came with his phone that was still tucked into the drawer so he goes to find them, rustles around in the kitchen for a little bit before deciding to bring a napkin, too. When he gets back to the couch, he plugs them in and sits back more, unbuckling his belt and slacks, getting comfortable.
Before he resumes the video, and pushes the buds into his ears, he texts back.
[ SMS; to armand ] now whose stalking who?
He was right, of course. There was an ASMR-esque quality to the video that had him turning the volume up, making the screen big, turning it in his hands.
The first time he hears is Marius asking Armand to use his words. Only the back of Armand's head can be seen, the auburn curls beautifully lit up with the numerous beaming lights behind the camera. His large hands wrap around his slim waist and Marius whispers, "I don't know what you want if you don't tell me, my boy. Why don't you tell me exactly what it is that you want?"
Per usual, you can't exactly see Marius's face. What isn't hidden by the curtain of hair as he leans down to hide himself in Armand's hair is blurred. Only his white-blond hair can be seen. Today it's done up in a man bun, tucked against his nape in a casual way.
But there's no mistaking that he's still in his work attire. He's wearing a suit and tie, the tie slightly loosened so the collar of his shirt could be unbuttoned. It was thrillingly cool, the same way old scholars used to dress. He's even wearing shiny, black brogues.
"Don't make me say it, it's embarrassing."
Immediately Daniel senses something is different from the previous videos. This one is so casual that Daniel almost calls it intimate by porn standards, a loving invitation into their softer moments. There's no mistaking the gentle sway of Armand's hips for anything but a man trying to find some much needed friction where it was needed the most. Daniel hears a breathless sighs fall from between them, the ear buds he's wearing delivering the sweet sigh straight into his brain.
"I like when you're embarrassed. I like embarrassing you." A large hand runs from the boys hips to his back, the pink pads of his fingers tracing lazy circles into Armand's back. "And I think you like it when I do." Marius mouths at the mans ear, tucking their heads into one another.
Armand shakes his head. He shakes his head and buries his face into the others shoulder, reaching for him, grasping his neck with his hands to pull him closer, if that were even possible.
"No, no; not if you're not using your words." Their almost-kiss goes unreturned. Armand grumbles, trying to find a grip on him any which way; he even beats on his chest for a second. Marius only laughs. In fact, Marius laughs and leans backwards against the wall, stretching himself up back to his full height.
Now that he wasn't hunched over the boy, it was easy to see how tall he truly was. There was no need for editing now, his head was well and truly out of frame. The top of Armands head only reaches his chest. His hips push forward, insistently, cutely; Daniel smiles, reaching for his belt so he could undo it.
He imagines Armand in his lap, grinding himself against his thigh so he could get off. Daniel wouldn't have the restraint that Marius has, he knows he wouldn't. He'd need to touch, to goad him into a frenzied state of need and pleasure. Armand wouldn't need to beg for it, he'd just give it to him.
He'd give all of it to him. He doesn't know why there aren't any videos of Marius fucking Armand, but he needs to see it. He needs to see what he sounds like when it pushes inside for the first time, the sounds his pink mouth might make. Daniel imagines that he'll gasp, he seems like a gasper; like he'd hold his breath until that very moment he could feel Daniel inside of him and only then, only when he's buried in as far as his cock'll go, would he relax.
Just as he pulls his prick out, he gets another text.
[ SMS; armand ] how is it? good?
Jesus. What was he supposed to say to that? The text disappears behind the video again. In his ear, Armand is whimpering, breathing soft and quick, mirroring the way their clothes rub together like a gentle whisper at his ear.
What did he even mean? Was Daniel hard? Was it doing its job, is that what he means? The question has him embarrassed somewhat. Kinda feels like Armand's right there, looking over his shoulder. It turns him on to no end. He can feel his cock twitching his hand. It trembles slightly, getting harder.
If he squeezes it, he knows some come would come out. He could feel that steady arousal building the longer he watches Armand dry hump Marius's thigh, trembling, clawing at the mans shirt.
Yeah. He needed to text him back before he started thinking with his dick.
[ SMS; to armand ] it's really good. Every video I've seen so far has been really good.
He means it, but what else was there to say? He doesn't want to tell the kid he's already harder than a fucking diamond. Or that he's leaking pre-come like an adolescent. There was an addictive quality to watching Armand's video's that he's never had the misfortune of feeling before. It was like he was drawn in through an invisible thread, pulled through to Armand's world in a way that wasn't possible before.
Pulling the video back up to play, Daniel just lets his head fall back so that he could listen to it. He visualizes Armand's lithe, sturdy body against his own, hears the way the fabric of their clothes brush together and shivers; the video had an ASMR-esque quality to it that he couldn't quite ignore. It was extraordinarily easy to put himself in Marius's shoes. His closed eyes only enhance the giddy arousal that curls up around his balls. It was like being teased in the best way possible.
"If you have no interest in using your tongue then I have no interest in helping you achieve whatever goal you're hoping to achieve, you little imp. I can't read your mind." Marius's voice was like liquid velvet. The dark, sultry cadence of control he yielded over his own mouth was truly a marvel to feel sink into his mind. His accent was a peculiar one, something unheard of for him. Swedish? Dutch? He couldn't place it. And yet it has Daniel bringing his hand back to his cock, squeezing himself at the root, thumbing the gooey, soft slit.
Armand speaks, but it's muffled and away from the mic. His head snaps up at once, caught by the change in angle; there's a side shot of them now and he sees that Armand's face is buried in Marius's chest. The collar of his shirt is unbuttoned and he's kissing him, whispering too quietly for the mic to pick up.
"I don't think I caught that, darling, what was that?"
The debasement for one's own pleasure was always a humbling experience. Daniel remembers the first time he was made to beg for what he wanted. He recalls the hot, burning cherries of his cheeks and the burning arousal in his groin. It starts that same inferno inside of him, a rumbling heat beginning to leak from him in droves. Armand seems to agree. His thin hips push forward, rocking up into the crook of Marius's thigh, against his belt.
"I just wanna come. Badly." Armand whispers into his ear, right into the mic. He's slightly breathless and each breath fills Daniel's ear with the softest white noise he's ever heard. He'd gladly listen to an hour of that sound. Daniel squeezes his prick, giving it a soft tug, pulling at the end to find some much needed lubrication.
"Well then I guess you'd better do that. Shouldn't you?" Disinterested, Marius drops one of his hands to his side while the other reaches for the back of Armand's neck, pulling his mouth in closer. But it was the permission that startles Armand into action. He lets go of the man and reaches for his own hips, pushing the fabric of his slacks down his ass, as far as it would go. He doesn't even try and get at Marius's belt. Did he know better than that? Was there something there that Daniel was missing about the two of them?
Armand's cute, uncut prick immediately presses itself flush up against his thigh again, dragging his cock along the rumpled curve of the man's hip and thigh. All the while his head is filled with the lewd sounds of the boy sucking on Marius's neck, moaning and whimpering through the act like he tasted delicious. Daniel gives himself a long, hard stroke. His grip tightens, squeezing as he works himself at a languid pace. The pleasure was almost as inviting as imagining Armand grinding on his thigh like that. Only, he doesn't believe he could just ignore him like that. Marius doesn't even look hard, or affected at all; the disinterest is clearly a fucking thing for him because Daniel's balls tighten, thighs following suit.
"Help me," Comes the next thing from Armand's sweet, whining mouth. It was charming, but there was something amusing about it to him. Daniel smiles, fisting his cock, watching the way his stuttering hips fuck upwards, anywhere he could find purchase, really; it even catches against Marius's belt a few times, which would be painful in any other circumstance but Armand only moans and shakes, holding onto the older man with trembling fingers. Pain seemed to melt him further, coaxing the first ever moan from him.
Daniel pants, tilting his head back again. God. Just imagining that sound as he sinks into Armand, as far as he'll fit....Daniel can feel goose flesh rising along his arms. Pleasure, hot and molten, runs through him like a fever. Like an exorcism. His orgasm could be felt in his balls. He could let go now, fuck his fist into oblivion. Cum to the thought of filling Armand up with his seed, holding him through his orgasm like a delicate, shaking leaf. But he wanted to hold off, he always does. It never seems to end up that way, does it?
"After the insolence you've shown me tonight? I don't think you deserve that kind of help." The hand that sits at the back of Armand's neck tighten, rolling up his skull, until he gathers a fistful of those auburn curls and grips him tight, pulling Armand up onto his tip-toes. "I think you're acting like a spoiled fucking brat and you'll take what you're given. I could've given you my shoe. You know that, don't you, baby?" A weak sound is coaxed from the boy. His lips part, just slightly, enough for Daniel to see that he's mid orgasm, back arched, breath held inside tightly.
It sneaks up on him. Armand's orgasm triggers his own, as violently startling as it is; all that pressure that built inside of him, the hot, tensed need to release...all of that is gone in an instant. For one long moment Daniel is stuck, pulled taught like a violin string. Every nerve in his body sings for Armand. He wanted to be inside of him, so badly needed to taste him, to smell him - to fucking touch him. He wanted to touch Armand so fucking badly.
"It's everywhere, Armand. These are going to have to be dry cleaned."
Marius's voice is still smooth like hot butter in Daniel's ear, but he doesn't hear it; not really. Not when Armand's soft after - shocked whimpers pull through the mic, his breathing hard and delicate, the cherries of his cheeks as red as he's ever seen them. Except now he just rests his cheek against Marius's chest, breathing through his post orgasm bliss.
His hand is covered in cum. His fingers cup themselves, trying to scoop up a blob of the stuff from his zipper. Maybe if he could get it wet and clean before it dried he could wear them again tomorrow.
Daniel, in his post nut clarity, throws his phone and head phones back onto the couch so he could go and search for some toilet paper.
When he come back, there's one text. It's from Armand and it contains one thing: a zoom link.