Walk on the Wild Side

A single week turns into two.

Rationally, it could mean anything. Armand wasn't streaming either, nor was his only fans updated.

It feels rather pointed, but there's also the underlining feeling that something wasn't right. It was an ominous disappearance and Daniel tries to text him a couple times before he decides that three texts is three too many to be unanswered and stops texting altogether.

It's not his place to be worried. He didn't even know Armand, not really. So why did he feel strangely protective of him?

-------

[ SMS; unknown number ] hello

The text comes in at 9 pm on the dot. Had Daniel been doing real work (real, as in, his assigned paperwork for class) he might have missed it altogether. Immediately upon picking up his phone he knows it's Armand. Who else could it be? Daniel looks at the number, taking a screen shot of it just in case before typing back a quick, "who is this?" just to keep some sense of normality.

Sitting there in his ratty t-shirt and boxers, Daniel resists the urge to double text the number. He wants to. Instead, he stares at the screen, willing those little bubbles to pop up like they always did when someone was typing.

What if it wasn't him?

"C'mon, kid. Text me." Daniel mutters, finding himself sinking into a pool of his own self-made despair.

[ SMS; unknown number ] guess. if you get it wrong, I'll never text you again.

Definitely him. The terrible capitalization is a dead giveaway for a professor and the cadence of his voice rings true and genuine, even through text.

[ SMS; to unknown number ] Armand.

[ SMS; to unknown number ] Are you okay?

Daniel quickly adds Armand to his contacts, not entirely surprised to find that it's a New York area code, he knows the kid is from here, but the intimacy of having his number seemed a strange jump from the account that Marius had made for him over whatsapp.  This was different. This was a personal phone number.

[ SMS; Armand ] how do you mean

[ SMS; to Armand ] You disappeared right after our phone conversation, I assumed I creeped you out. But then you stopped streaming and I don't know what to make of that.

It's a few, painstaking, minutes before he gets any reply again. It makes his insides squirm and his stomach flop, but when the text comes in he can feel a violent cold over take him.

[ SMS; Armand ] i got into trouble

Daniel stares at the wall across from his bed. Did he do that? Was this his fault, did Marius take away his things? Was that the kind of man Marius was?

[ SMS; Armand ] you didn't get me in trouble, i did

[ SMS; Armand ] it's not like that, it was for my own good

Where has he heard that before but every victim of abuse, ever? He was too young for these words to be leaving his mouth. He was too young for bad things to happen.

This time it's Daniel's turn to take a moment to collect himself. The words, It's for my own good sound a lot like I deserve it and he suddenly wants to throttle Marius with both hands.

[ SMS; To Armand ] Should I be worried? Are you really okay?

[ SMS; Armand ] what if i told you that what happened had nothing to do with marius? and everything to do with my own actions?

A scoff is pulled from Daniel's mouth. A big one.

[ SMS; To Armand ] Right. So why are you messaging me from a private number and not whatsapp?

[ SMS; Armand ] because i didnt want you to think that i hated you and my access to my accounts are on the back burner so that i can 'focus on what matters' rather than cope with internet usage like i always do. is that enough for you? do i need to give you more?

For a second there Daniel almost laughs. He didn't want him to think he hated him? What kind of childish bullshit was that? Was that for real?

[ SMS; To Armand ] Okay, so what was this trouble? And why is Marius taking away your social media?

He knows that there's no good reason to be grilling him like this, but he's a nosy bastard when he smells trouble and this seemed like a mountain of it. He'd be an idiot if he didn't see this for what is was: a case of abuse. Clearly. If not physical, than emotional. Spiritual.

[ SMS; Armand ] a security attack happened and it was my fault. he's trying to figure out the best way to fix it.

Huh. Security issues. Okay, well that certainly changed things. But what if Armand was covering for him? What if he was covering for something nefarious and hiding it was better than airing out the issue?

[ SMS; Armand ] i didn't mean to cause you to worry daniel. just wanted to reach out.

 

[ SMS; To Armand ] Why?

 

Secretly, there was a small part of him that was elated at speaking with Armand again.  The three, almost four weeks without a single reply was worrying. It wasn't often that Daniel worried over things that he couldn't control, but this had bordered on withdrawal;  he felt the absence like the absence of heroin. It lived in him like a warmed, happy parasite and dug under his skin, making it's home there amongst the obsession and drug abuse. 

Which is why, when he texts back, Daniel knows he's well and truly fucked.  

[ SMS;  Armand ]  when we talked last we had a fun time and it's been a while since i've had any fun at all

[ SMS; Armand ]   texting you lifts my mood and i enjoy it. is that alright with you.

 

He should leave it at that.  It would be smarter to leave it at that, sleep on the reply.  But this was Armand he was talking to and his brain felt like it was leaping up at him like a crazed mutt,  dying to gather a taste, a smell - anything to stave off the deep, unrelenting ache that he felt for him when he wasn't around. 

[ SMS; To Armand ]  Video chat? 

 

[ SMS; Armand ]  that's the worst idea youve ever had but i'm probably going to take you up on that

[ SMS; Armand ]  give me five minutes

 

Daniel gives him ten.  He takes that time to run to the bathroom and wash his face, giving his face a good pat before running back to bed and pulling the covers open so he could crawl in and collapse in the center of his bed, nearly the very same position he was in on their first face time. 

This time, when he answers the call, Armand is wearing a face mask with a botticelli portrait printed across the front.  Daniel's eyebrow raises.  His face heats.

"I'm sick."

"You sick?"  They say in unison, somewhat taken aback by it.  He exhales a chuckle through his nose and Armand can be heard breathing harder behind the mask, his eyes slightly squinting with, Daniel assumes, a smile.

"What, you 'fraid you're gonna get your streamer cooties all over me?"  He says immediately after, pointedly, with his whole chest.

"No, I just look like shit today." 

Daniel notes that he sounds ill,  but not in the sore throat sort of way. He sounds small, down - trodden even. Like talking was a chore that he'd rather not do. 

"C'mon boss, you? You look like shit? I doubt it." 

"You can't doubt it, I get to decide."

"A'right, but I think I just decided. I just did that."  

This time, Armand is the first to break. Breathless mirth leaves him in a rosary of giggles,  a sound that Daniel is thankful to hear.  

"So what happened, what was this security thing you were talkin' about?"

Whatever mirth lives in the streamer's brown eyes dissipates almost immediately.  Wherever Armand is laying, he turns his head sideways and sighs into the swaddle of blankets that surrounds his body.  "It's so humiliating, Daniel." 

"I'll decide if it's humiliating, fill me in."

"I - can't."  Armand hesitates before turning his arm to face his body, the slight change in position lighting his face up in a way that allows Daniel to see a yellowish bruise stretching from the top of his eye to the under the mask. 

Daniel sits up.  "Hey," He gently replies, lowering the cadence of his retort.  "Who am I going to tell?" 

He looks so incredibly small from this angle. His soft auburn curls frame his face with more vigor, the hood of his sweater pushing the curls up around his cheeks and brows; an attempt at hiding the bruising, maybe. If he didn't play this gently, he might spook him with the questions. 

Armand glances up at the camera, trying to catch Daniel's eyes.  "You promise?" 

"I promise that I have no underlying intention of turning this into a life time movie for Amazon Prime, yes. I promise." Propping his head up with his arm.

It took so little to please the little imp that Daniel almost feels bad about how easily he gives in.  Armand sighs, looking down.  

"A customer used my onlyfans to dox me at school and he found my home address.  At first it wasn't really anything. He would pay for custom video's, some toy's, nothing weird.  Marius found out and he blocked him and we thought that might be it, he might leave it as it was. But-"  Behind his mask, Daniel can see that he's biting his lip.  "But he showed up at our house."  Another sweep of his gaze towards the camera, searching Daniel's expression on the other end.

"So what happened, are you okay? Did Marius sort him out?" 

"He showed up a little bit later, after I'd called the cops." 

"But are you okay? Did he hurt you?" 

Without retort, but not without response, Armand reaches for his mask and pulls it from one ear gingerly. 

Daniel gasps. He had seen a bruise. But the bruise was nothing in comparison to the large, purple bruise that was hidden under a fairly large bandage across his cheek.  It looked weeks old, now, yellowing, but when he touches his fingers to the bandage he winces. 

"Jesus christ, Armand. What did that psycho do to you? You aren't alright, look at that -"

"Do you wanna see the stitches?"  

The question is baffling enough that Daniel has to take a second to see if he hears him correctly. Armand smiles. Daniel's eyes move to his mouth and he smiles back, unconsciously.  

"Fuck it. Yeah. Show me." 

It's that smile of his. He'd do anything to keep him smiling like that.

"Okay, hold on."  Armand drops the camera.  The sound of a bandaid being pulled off skin is palpable to the ears and it's followed by another, this one longer and more sensitive; Daniel takes particular note to the sound of his pain and stores that in the back of his head.  When he's back, Daniel winces back when he sees the stitches.

Whatever made that gash must have been big. The cut itself is crusted over, black in some parts, and blood crusts off when Armand presses a finger to the middle.

"God damn, Armand, what the fuck did that guy do to you?"

Both move their phones closer to their faces instinctively. 

"He had a hunting knife." 

"A HUNTING KNIFE-"

"Breathe, Daniel. I'm alive, aren't I?" 

"This is the security breach you were talking about? Maybe lead with the breaking and entering, I thought Marius was throwing you around!" 

Armand's face splits in two again.  His smile stretches his cheek and he cups the wound while grinning, squinting his bruised eyes at Daniel with a child - like joy. 

Maybe it was the ridiculousness of it all. Maybe it was the frantic desperation Dan feels when it comes to protecting Armand. Whatever the case, he felt like he was brimming over with worry and as Armand grins at him, he can't help but grin back;  unsettled by the smile but cognizant, too, that he knew why - that it had been three and a half weeks of hell for him, too.  That the relief of laughter was as potent as any narcotic they might have given this little one to get through the healing. 

"Please tell me this guy's in jail right now. Please." 

"Out on bail, but we got a restraining order and some better security at home. So now you know. Why Marius has taken away my stuff. He's worried that I'll do this kind of thing again." Armand settles back down onto his back, pulling his phone over his body. The way Daniel likes best.

"Is that why you're calling me from a personal number and not whatsapp?"

"I'm calling you from a personal number because I haven't learned my lesson on talking to strange old men on the internet, I suppose."

"Hey," Daniel says loudly, faking incredulous offense. "I'm better than that creep, aren't I? Besides, you're the one with my address and credit card information. If anyone's closer to this guy, it's you, boss. Sorry." His eyes roam along the screen where his wound sits. The cheek is purple and yellow still, but the flesh is taut and shiny in a way that suggests it's still got a long way to being fully healed.  Is it bad that he wants to touch it? Put his palm to it and feel the heat?

"I reasoned with myself for a while about texting you."  Armand starts, quieter than before.  "I didn't think you'd miss me at all. But I kept re-reading our messages and I felt some guilt knowing that I ghosted you."  A sigh comes from those pretty pink lips of his, the purse of them an action he'd come to appreciate. 

"I texted you."

"You texted me?" 

Armand looks genuinely surprised. His eyebrows raise, the mouth opens some; just enough for Daniel to realize that he didn't know he'd been texted because Marius had shut his socials down. He didn't know that Daniel missed him.

"Yeah, of course. After the third one I stopped, I thought - I don't know what I thought. Maybe that I was being persistent when I shouldn't be."

Something changes in the boy's expression after that.  He's softer, quieter. The pleasure in his eyes is a quiet thing, as delicate as a rose petal against a cheek.  

"Were you scared?"  He doesn't know what possesses him to say it. Daniel doesn't want to press to hard on the bruise, but there's more to the story that he isn't getting and the journalist in him is scratching at his head. 

"Not at first. I thought it was a joke. But eventually, yes, I was scared."  

"How could you think that it was a joke? Haven't you ever been broken into? Sane people don't do that stuff." 

"I mean, he always said that he would show up and rescue me. I just assumed that he was into that whole damsel in distress deal. He used to tell me he'd keep me locked up in his summer house away from his wife and everything."  

"He- " His throat tightens. Adam's apple bobs as he swallows the word. "He had a wife?" 

"Apparently. And children." Armand's disgust is palpable at that. His lips purse and he sighs, turning onto his side.

"I don't know what to say. You do custom videos?" 

The disgusted purse of his lips turns into that impish, waif - like smirk again and Daniel raises an eyebrow; desperate to lighten the mood and forget that he isn't the only man with a partner obsessed with Armand.

"I did. I should stop. Or I'll just go back to twitch." 

"Twitch is good. I enjoyed your content before I even know you did the only fans gig. Are you worried that this might happen again?" 

"I'm worried it is happening again." The kid brings a hand up to his face so that he could feign worry about his stitches, but the faint blush that blooms along his nose tells Daniel all he needs to know. 

Shit.

"What's that mean?" Daniel sounds defensive. He knows he does. He hates sounding like this. How could he be familiar to the asshole who just broke into his house and roughed him up? God knows what else, he had no idea the extent of the abuse and he should be easier on him but he truly does resent the idea that he's here based purely on what his dick wants.

"Only that I thought Harl' was my friend, too. Before all of this went down, I just got too close much too quickly. I worry that I'm going to hurt us both." 

Immediately all of that defensive energy dissipates. Daniel sighs, shaking his head at him.  "Hey, you didn't make him do any of that. Yeah, you thought you were friends. But there are monsters everywhere, alright? This ain't your fault, kid." 

Armand takes his bottom lip into his mouth and nods, but he doesn't respond. The look in his eye suggests that it affects him, that he's reigning something in internally but his expression betrays nothing.

"Also," Daniel says, holding a finger up to the camera.  "If, at any point in this thing, whatever it is, you want to ghost me; then ghost me. I ain't gonna show up atcha house. I was ready to leave you alone three weeks ago." 

"Three and a half." Comes Armand's small voice, half whisper.  

"Yeah, well it felt like three and three quarters." A matter of fact nod and a lop sided grin.  Daniel leans his head back against his arm.  

"Daniel?" Armand shifts, too. Daniel can see him turning around onto his stomach, leaning his chin against his palm.  

"Yeah, boss?" 

"You know we can never be more than what we are right now, don't you?" 

A piercing twinge of cold pain throbs through Daniel's chest. He feels exposed, vulnerable to the sudden truth of the matter.

Maybe it was true. But also, had he really wanted anything more? More than what he was willing to pay for? Could the feelings he had be seen through the screen of his phone and was it ugly? 

Daniel is silent for a beat too long, but when he replies the retort comes as casually as he can.  "You called me, Armand." 

"Yeah. But you texted me first."

Daniel sounds affronted.  "You had no idea I texted first until I told you." 

"Yeah, but you texted first and you sent that maid costume first." 

His mouth opens and then shuts, twice. "Okay, well, um, I'm not the one that made porn out of it. Arguably, that's a ton more work than what I did."

"You paid two hundred dollars for that maid costume, Daniel-" 

"Uh, unfair. I seen that shit on your wishlist for fourty bucks, the tier was the thing that costed two hundred. I was doing you a solid."

Armand seems to think on that, lifting his eyes somrwhere far off.

"Is there anything you wouldn't pay for?" 

"Well, first of all I didn't know you did commission stuff. You have a whole thing goin' on behind the scenes I got no idea about." Running a hand through his hair idly, the older glimpses at Armand with something of a sharpened grin, hungry even.

"If you want personalized content, sir, you're going to have to put in a request like everyone else." Armand's best attempt at sounding like the working dead might be more funny if he thought this kid's ever worked a dead end job in his life. 

"So no complimentary oven cleaning?"

"No complimentary oven cleaning, no. Why the fuck is your oven so dirty? Don't tell me you actually use that thing." 

"I'd use it if you came over." His own cheeks feel hot just saying it. It's embarrassing hearing it come out of his mouth, but it's worth it the minute Armand busts into laughter. He immediately puts a hand over his mouth and collapses onto his face into a pillow. His curls bounce with his movement. It's endearing. 

"Alright, I'm seriously getting delirious here and so are you. This is me sending you to bed." Daniel checks the time. 10:30. He hadn't realized it'd been that long.

"What next, Daniel, you'd like to tuck me in?" 

A shake of the head. Armand looks into the camera again and they greet each other with half smiles, cradling their vulnerability under their closely guarded tongues like precious jewels. 

"Stop flirting with me and get to bed. It's good to hear that you're doing fine, but full offense I'm about to pass out with all these goddamn lights on and it'll be your fault. Go on." 

Armand pinches both his lips between his teeth before pursing them into a half smile, caught between humoring him and playing with him; it might be too early for playing.

"Fine. Goodnight Daniel M. Don't let the bed bugs bite." 

Before he can say anything back, the screen fades to black. Small, white numbers flash back up as a reminder to just how long they spoke for. 

He sinks into sleep like that, phone clutched to his chest. Thoughts of Armand in his head, of deep red gashes and blood seeping from his beautiful mouth. He sees the boy drinking the blood from his own wound and in the morning, when he wakes up and his faculties return he'll realize that his night terror was more wet than anything. 

In the morning the shame and rationality will set in and Daniel will come to his senses regarding Armand. He'll wash the previous night's ejaculate from his thigh and think of everything wrong with them; but tonight he sinks into a world where a bloodied Armand takes him by the hand and presses his fingers into the hole in his cheek.