Katabasis
Everything seemed to have started there, that quiet night when Armand had shown him the horrifying wound on his cheek like it meant nothing at all.
He'd worked towards this - thing, with Armand with almost as much gusto as he'd worked towards his tenure. The academic council had nothing on Armand. Which also meant, as much as he'd tried to avoid it, that Alice had also begun to feel the stretch of his attention. No longer was he texting her daily, no longer did he invite her over for the occasional romp at his place, he just - stopped reaching out first. He let her come to him, ask for what she needed just so he could give it to her as swiftly and as painlessy as possible.
It was stupid of him to allow it to get like that. He knew the day he'd gotten the first call that whatever this thing was, it was unhealthy.
Armand had admitted to it, too: He was afraid he was in too deep, afraid that Daniel might show up with a knife or something.
Whatever the case, the slippery slope of their connection had begun to deteriorate other parts of his life.
It's mutual.
Daniel makes sure it is. He asks him over the phone one night, looking over his email's distractedly, why he called him from a phone that Marius had no idea he had.
"It's lonely." Is Armand's response, tugging the phone to his ear enough that Daniel could hear his breathing.
"Isn't he gonna be mad when he finds out?"
"You aren't going to tell him, right? Then he won't find out. Besides, I can have friends."
"Are you? Why are you talking to me if you have friends?"
Silence.
When Armand speaks again, it's with a sharpened edge to the tone. "We can stop if you want."
"No, no -" Too quick, he replies so quickly that he can hear the kid laugh on the other end. "I just mean, well, don't you have anyone in your real life you can talk to about this stuff? It ain't normal to be so isolated."
"It's better for me this way."
"Better or easier?"
"Safer." Armand decides.
"I guess I just feel skeevy."
"Skeevy?"
"Yeah, y'know -" Maybe he doesn't know. Daniel lifts a shoulder, though Armand can't see it. "I think a kid your age should be talking to people your age. Spending all your time talking to me might do more harm than good."
Tonight it seems that Armand is feeling introspective. His frequent pauses worry him, but he doesn't say that. He doesn't say that he should be at his girlfriends, but he thinks that, too.
"Have you ever spoken to people my age, Daniel? Do you like being around them?"
Armand is right, of course. Despite teaching them, and interacting with his students in a way that suggests he's their favorite professor, Daniel couldn't say that he enjoyed any singular student's presence enough to seek them out further: and wasn't that just the way it was supposed to be? He was too old to be messing around with kids his students' ages.
"I mean, they're not, uh, my favorite. I don't make it a habit to seek out twenty - whatever's. If that's what you mean."
"I -" Armand stops and chuckles, exhaling through his nose. "No, I just mean that if I had the choice in who I interact with, it would be with you."
Such a confession draws a small 'oh' from the man, but nothing else. Maybe they're both feeling introspective tonight.
He closes his laptop.
"I think you need to get out more." Is what he says, trying to be the responsible adult he is. "Meet new people. Marius can't be your only friend, right?"
"What do you have in mind?"
Ah, fuck.
"No, not with me-" A laugh, one he punctuates by running his palm down his face. "I just meant that there are tons of places you can find older friends."
"So is that a no to sneaking me out?"
Double fuck. Is this how he spoke to that Harl guy, did he entice him like this, laying the foundation for his own end? Daniel feels enticed. His heart trips over itself and his mouth scrambles to answer, to form a coherent sentence. "I can't."
A silence.
When Armand does answer, his voice is soft; not at all offended. "So where do you suggest? If I go by myself?"
Daniel's not sure what's worse, going with him or going alone. Especially after everything Armand's been through. He'd be safer if Daniel went. He could drive him home after, make sure he got inside; no ulterior motives lurked below the surface after he searches himself - worried that he might be thinking with his dick, but relieved that he wasn't. He only wanted to make sure Armand was safe.
"Uh," He says and rubs his eyes, trying to find the name of a bar. "The uh, Lucky Shamrock is good. Pierce's is also nice, if you like speak easy's."
"When should I go?"
Daniel almost says he can go whenever he want, but then Armand interrupts and says, "I mean, when is the busiest day?"
"Hooo, I don't know. I haven't been in a while. Maybe Saturday night? Or Friday night."
"I've never been to a bar before," Armand adds and he can hear some shuffling on the other end of the line.
"You're making this really hard to be your friend, you know that?" Daniel suddenly says, a burst of bravery in his voice. "I mean, you have to know that. Don't go out."
"What does that mean?" He questions and that tone, bordering on suspicious, stabs at him.
"It mean's I don't trust you to go out and be safe if you go alone. That's all. You should bring Marius with you at least."
"I'm not a child, Daniel. I know what I'm doing."
He stops, taking that in, nodding. There's a pause between them before Daniel exhales and leans into the phone. "I understand that, but you were just involved in something highly dangerous. Aren't you worried?"
"If you're so worried, meet me there." Armand's smile can be heard through the screen, a flirtatious kind of look; one he's only glimpsed a few times.
"I can't. I would love to, believe me-"
"Well, I'm going to be there on Saturday."
Daniel can't believe what he's hearing. He doesn't want to know this. He can't even mitigate how he ended up in this predicament, much less being told off by a kid nearly half his age for not going out with him. What would he tell Alice if she found out he was cruising gay bar's? That he was there with a kid young enough to be his student?
"Don't tell me that."
"You're the one that suggested we go out. Don't be coy."
"I'm not being coy, I suggested you make friends, that's all. It's not weird that I'm the only person you're talking to right now other than Marius?"
Armand scoff's into the phone. "I don't need to be babysat."
"Hey, I didn't s -"
The phone is hung up. The line goes dead and he sighs, looking at the screen.
How did this end up like this?
Not one to leave an open wound, Daniel immediately texts Armand.
[ SMS; To Armand ] You're the one that said we shouldn't pursue this. Grow up.
He regrets it immediately. If only because he knows he just likes getting the last word in, likes to be superior in fights; he always has. But he doesn't want to show that to Armand, even if he doesn't see that Armand is doing that very thing in return. Daniel only sees that he fucked up somewhere. Nothing else is apparent to him until he's stoned and he chalks it up to the age of the youth these days.
He tries not to think about Saturday.
By Thursday, Daniel feels the scathe of Armand's silence. He didn't even open the message.
Okay, so he might be a little pissed off that he isn't willing to talk to him, but that was completely rational. How familiar could they be, really? It isn't his place to ask him to put safe guards in place, he shouldn't even be worried really. There's something in his head that tells him to show up to Lucky's just to be sure.
But then he gives his head a shake and ignores his baser impulses. Armand was an adult, he could decide for himself if he was unsafe.
I thought it was a joke at first.
That's what he'd said, right? In response to being stalked, having a knife pulled on him, being broken into for Christ Sake, he thought it was a joke.
He wasn't going to show up or text him again. He was done. This was getting too much for him. His head was fifty shades of fucked up.
Armand's inspired delirium pushes him through the day like that, angry, bitter and on edge; sure that he was making the right choice but regretful, too. Like he was losing something he might never get again. Like Armand was a once-in-a-lifetime experience and he was squandering it trying to clutch his pearl's as tightly as he is.
A lesser man would've taken the bait. He's never wanted to be a lesser man so badly in his life.
The days that followed were solitary and surreal.
The autumn leaves were changing and the afternoon into the stretch of evening was rainy, gray and depressing. Normally the rain invigorated him, brought him back to life but when he open's the window and leans his head out onto the fire escape all he thinks about is how fucking cold it is. It clears his head, anyway, so he goes and crawls out onto the stairs, lighting a cigarette.
It's been two day's since he and Armand have spoken. He'd told himself that he didn't need to worry about Armand, that it wasn't his problem, but the mounting dread in his chest could be felt throughout the morning and well into the afternoon.
He takes his phone out and opens the screen, pulling up Armand's twitch. Nothing. Didn't even log in. His only fans hadn't updated, but it wasn't shut down either and Daniel looks at the home screen.
Rain spatters the glass surface but he only stares, scrolling through the page with his video's and tier information. He was on the silver tier now, but the gold tier - Well, the gold tier was fucking expensive. Less than a paycheck of his, but certainly more than his TA made bi weekly. The perks has exactly what he's looking for: private requests. On top of the 350$ tier level, each requested video was 200$ each in their most basic form.
If he wanted a costume, it was 50 bucks more. If they wanted another person in the video it was 70 bucks more. There was even the option of requesting certain places; bathroom's, board room's, hotel room's - the more public the more it costed.
It wasn't his best idea. Daniel knows he's being a fucking idiot. And a dog.
It was barely lunch time, but if he put in the request now Armand might see it by the time he wakes up.
He closes his phone and tucks it to his chest, letting it fall into his shirt.
"Fuck," He whispers, taking a long drag on his smoke.
What a stupid way to get Armand's attention. And if Marius sees it first, what would he do? Deny it?
The way Daniel sees it is that he's sober - completely. Not counting the cup of coffee he still sipped on, he was in his right mind. He couldn't say this was stupid, not if it meant Armand's attention was caught and he was safe with Marius.
This is how he rationalized it to himself. He's trying to keep Armand from doing something dumb. But if Marius was there, it didn't matter if he didn't go at all.
So he buys the gold tier. And when he's gotten the email for his new perks, he quickly puts in a request that makes him grab his face and head back inside.
When Daniel's back inside, sprawled out on the couch, he reread's the request: Public Setting. Bar Bathroom blow job w/ camera man POV. Cum on face.
It'll be hours before Armand wakes up. Even longer if Marius was guarding his accounts and relaying the information. He might not even tell Armand, much less accept the request, but he still feels the residual energy gathering in his body like a stomach ache anyway. It feels awful going in through the back door like this, it felt like he was telling Marius on him; but he had to trust that he wasn't a complete freak, right?
If it all worked out accordingly, Armand would just go with Marius to the bar. Fulfill the order, but it wasn't about the order (this much, he knows, is what he tells himself to make himself feel better after shelling out over 600 dollars for one goddamn video), it was, ultimately, to make sure he was with someone he could trust.
So why he wracked with so much guilt?
As afternoon turns into evening, Daniel's buyers remorse turns into a bitter pill he still tastes long after swallowing. He really can't help but kick himself for spending six hundred dollars on something so intangible. A video was - nothing. Really. It was like throwing the money out the window for all it was worth in the real world.
What would Alice say if she could see him now? Was this something they'd break up over? He'd probably be broken up with if she knew what he did and what he was planning to do.
God, maybe he fucked everything up and the inevitable end would catch up with him sooner rather than later.
The setting sun was like a count down of sorts, a clock that signaled Armand would be up soon; and he'd either be angry or he'd block him. Or maybe he'd thank him, after all -six hundred and twenty dollars was a lot of money.
Just after 9 o'clock, a text from Armand comes in.
He reads the name and purposefully shuts his eyes before he can read the message, grasping his phone to his chest in an anxious fashion.
This is it.
[ SMS; Armand ] YOU grow up
That's all. There was nothing else.
In a way, he's relieved that he was replied to at all but it was worse, almost, that this little game of chicken they had going on wasn't working in his favor.
There was only one option at this point, wasn't there?
He rationalizes this decision with a joint in his mouth, reading the message back a dozen or more times.
He needed to go down to Lucky's.
If he didn't, he'd go crazy. Not to intervene, or to see him, but just - what?
To watch from afar like a crazed stalker? What if Armand didn't show up and he was left waiting for no other reason than Armand had changed his mind on going out? There was a plethora of reason's not to go but only one that stuck out to him: he could see Armand.
He could see Armand and he could finally break free from his stupid obsession.
If he could see him, maybe it would finally sink in just how young he is; and his brain would do the rest.
He just needed to see him and get it out of his system, that's all.
In the car on the way over to the bar, Daniel has a full conversation with himself. He looks at himself from all angles and came up with something cruel at every turn, every excuse; when he parks his car across the street and up a bit, he placates these thoughts with some weed.
"We're just gonna stay for a bit, make sure he's with someone and we'll leave, okay? There's no need to feel weird about it." Daniel lights up his joint and roll his window down a crack, just enough to get some circulation before shutting the car off and leaning back.
The bar itself hasn't changed much at all. It's only been a year or so since he's been inside it, but the outside is still archaic and familiar. The red brick alongside the neon lighting in the window is a beacon for him. It's a reminder of the boy he'd been, the little asshole who thought reverse psychology would get him laid.
And didn't it?
He's been on his knees in that establishment more times than he can truly remember thanks to the cocaine and alcohol, but there was only good memories attached to his experience. As far as good went, he supposed. There were plenty shameful nights there, too. But Armand wouldn't have that experience. Armand could afford the drinks, he didn't need to whore himself out to get high and he sure as hell didn't need to give his body to people he didn't rightly even like - for the meager chance of leaving with some drugs.
Tonight, if he showed up at all, would not end badly.
He would make sure of that.
Two hours pass by like that, eyeing the bar from his car, ducking his head whenever a car rolls past, puffing on the joints he'd rolled at home. As it turns out, stake out's were incredibly difficult. Daniel starts looking around in his car halfway to one am, picking up garbage and gathering it on the front seat, checking his phone, putting it back down.
When he turn's back around in the front seat, Armand is standing in front of the bar.
It had to be him. It couldn't be anyone else. The heart in his chest squeezes out a terrible sort of rhythm, but it only gets worse when he eyes the man at his side.
Marius.
As tall as the day is long, it seems. Armand's head barely clears his shoulder.
His golden, wavy hair is tied up at his neck in a messy bun, pulled back from the collar of his grey suit. He only sees his back, but there was no one else that it could be.
Daniel feels cold suddenly. His chest expands and that, too, feels difficult.
He was real.
The particular's of his outfit can't really be seen this far, but the black turtleneck and maroon blazer he wears is so - what, unlike him? Could he really say that? He didn't know what was the norm for Armand, but he'd only seen him in the maid outfit and the hoodie before so this feels intimately strange.
Marius lifts a hand and ruffles Armand's hair and immediately he's seen to hit that hand away, shoving at the man before stalking down the block. When Marius follows, it's only after lifting his arms in a dramatic display before stomping after Armand. Away from Daniel's direction.
Were they in some kind of lover's quarrel?
Daniel checks his phone for the time.
Armand texted him.
When he checks the text message, he's met with a video message to download. He presses download.
Oh god, is this what he thinks it is? The video seems to take forever to download onto his phone and when it does, almost loading completely, it runs slower and Daniel sits there; silently willing it to load before he loses sight of Armand entirely.
Eventually, the video loads and it's absolutely vile how excited he is to see Armand.
He's in the bathroom. The navy blue tile with the white stars are familiar to him, but it's the back of the toilet he recognizes immediately; he's done coke there more times than he can count. Armand sits on the lid of the toilet, somewhat drunkenly looking into the camera - his pupil's are large and moon - like and Daniel wonders how much he's had to drink here.
"Allons-y." Armand whispers, reaching for Marius's trousers, pulling at his belt with deft, pink fingers.
"Mh, si avide."
Whoever this is, Daniel realizes quite quickly that this isn't Marius. He'd been convinced just a few minutes ago, but really was he wearing his glasses when he'd seen them outside? And his face, he hadn't even seen his face. He had no idea what Marius looks like, but he knows his voice and this wasn't it.
He's sober enough to recognize that Marius didn't have a French accent, much less golden hair, and now he glances back up to where he'd last seen Armand, more confused that ever. Okay, so Armand had more friends than he realized.
It doesn't stop him from watching the video, though. He's drawn back in, mouth gaping when Armand pulls out the man's cock and it's huge - like, huge - huge.
And pink. Daniel swallows, bringing his phone closer to his face. Just as he turns up the volume, his screen turns black and a call comes in from Armand.
It's past one at this point. He could just ignore it.
But what if he needed help?
He should ignore it, but he doesn't. It wasn't like it was a face time call, he couldn't actually see where he was, right?
Daniel picks up and he's greeted with, "Mr. Molloy," In a playful, purring tone. Definitely drunk.
"So I take it you made it to Lucky's?" He answers and puts the phone closer to his ear.
He tries not to think about Armand sucking cock.
"What are you doing right now?"
"M - me? I'm at home doing some work. Why?"
"You sound like you're in the bathroom." A giggle. Armand's mirth fills his head and it's like a perfume to the baser parts of his mind. A balm to his burning arousal.
"I can assure you that I'm not in the bathroom, Armand."
"Did you get my text?"
For a second, Daniel forgets that they're supposed to be angry at one another. It's easier to be angry when he's not talking to him. Being in his presence, even over the phone, softens his resolve and he sighs, "What text? Telling me to grow up?"
"I know you opened it before you took my call, Daniel. You have read receipts on."
Fuck. Shit.
"It isn't finished downloading."
Armand continues with his laughter, except this time it sound cruel to him.
"Liar, liar pants on fire-"
"Is this supposed to convince me that you're a grown up?"
"-Hanging from a telephone wire!"
"I'm going to hang up, Armand." He wouldn't, but the threat feels good. It feels even better when he stops singing, laughing, everything.
"Why, are you eager to get back to the video?"
If he was good at evading hard conversation, Armand was a master at leading everything back to the topic at hand. He did so with surprising ease, even when he was drunk and part of him wonders what the conversation would be like if he was sober and on his best game.
"Do you want to know something fun, Daniel Molloy?"
He's high enough that he doesn't notice he hasn't told Armand his last name. It just feels like something he's told him at some point so when he uses it, it only grasps his attention in an enticing manner.
"What?" He replies, leaning his head back against the headrest.
"I told Marius to reject your proposal."
"My proposal?" Daniel asks, closing his eyes.
"Your request for a private video."
That takes a second to really sink in, but when it does he sits up and looks around. "So what does that mean?"
"It means you'll get a refund."
"Why?"
He doesn't answer right away.
"Because you think you're clever and you're not."
"Armand," Daniel warns, leaning into his phone. "Stop being obtuse, why did you tell Marius to delete it?"
"What if I said that I just wanted you to see it?"
If Armand was playing with him still, he doesn't sense it; he sounds sincere and warm and Daniel has to remember that someone else's cock was in his mouth that wasn't Marius's. What did that mean? That he did this with all of his clients? What that blonde guy his client?
"I'd say you're full of shit."
"Don't be mean to me, Daniel, I just had a very unpleasant night."
"I thought you said Lucky's was fun?"
"I never said Lucky's was fun. It was, though. But it was more to do with the company, I suppose."
He has to be careful here. One misstep, one mention of knowing Armand was with someone and what he looked like had to be kept under wraps. He had to be cautious about the implication.
"You got perved on?" Daniel laughs, trying to come across as natural as he possible can.
"Unfortunately for you, Daniel, I did not get perved on."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Trying not to sound offended, and failing, Daniel switches his phone to the other ear.
"Have you ever listened to Katy Perry?"
"What - no?"
"There's this song called Hot n' Cold and I think you'll find it particularly illuminating."
He forgot how honest drunk kids could be. He was the same way at that age. He remembers the thrill of being completely honest, macabre or not; he'll give Armand the kindness of playing along.
"So why did your night turn out shit?"
There's a silence on the other end. This time he can hear a rustling and then the sound of a lighter flicking.
"You didn't show up." Armand says through an inhale, the clear sound of a man having a cigarette.
Daniel imagines him on some stoop a few blocks away, pining for him, unfulfilled and drunk.
"I thought if I showed up you'd think I was just another pervert trying to fuck you." The confession sounds cruel to his own ears so he can't imagine how it sounds to Armand, but it's sharp and as soon as it leaves his lips the truth settles between them like a sigh.
"What would be the harm in that?" Armand answers without pause.
"You're the young person in this scenario, Armand, when you get older I promise that you'll see it differently."
"And what if I wanted you to fuck me?"
"Jesus, Armand. You can't say that to me!" It's so desperate the way his prick gets hard. He feels like a goddamn teenager again, raring to go, watching porn everyday; being friends with Armand invigorated him.
It was undeniable.
"I can say whatever I want and tomorrow, when I'm not drunk, I'll pretend that I didn't say it and you'll play along. Won't you?"
It really isn't in him to deny Armand anything.
"You never answered my question. Why was your night shit?"
Closing his eyes, and leaning back against the seat, Daniel puts his chair back so that he could lie comfortably. Talking to him this late at night feels intimate, but talking to Armand while he's drunk and feeling honest is like sitting next to him, holding his hand.
"My friend is an insufferable drunk. He gets handsy when he's like that."
"And you don't - like that?"
"I don't mind it. Sometimes it's too much. I feel like a dog he's doting on."
Daniel laughs with two exhales, remembering the way Armand slapped his hand away.
"Maybe he's in love with you."
"Ha!" Armand laughs, taking another drag of his cigarette on the other end of the line. "In love! He couldn't find love if it was attached to a stick and held over his head to guide him. He's beautiful, but he goes through partners like nobody else I know."
"He's beautiful?" Daniel asks, mostly just to keep the conversation flowing.
"Don't be jealous, beauty only gets you so far for me."
"Right. So why didn't you bring Marius?"
A pause, briefly. "He doesn't know I have a phone. So filming would be harder. I, um."
Daniel's never heard him say 'um' before. He's rubbing off on him.
"He also might not know that I'm at a bar."
"Armand." Immediately Daniel thinks how much like his dad he sounds like, a disappointed sort of cadence to the name.
"Don't be boring, I was hoping you'd show up."
"I told you I couldn't."
"That didn't stop me from looking at the door everytime someone came in." Armand inhales softly. "To think, it could've been you in that video."
"You're dangerous when you drink, you know that?" Daniel squeezes his thighs together. Feels the stretch of his growing erection against the seam of his boxers and he lifts his hips, grabbing at the fabric to loosen it up.
"I should go. My car is here and my friend is about to lynch me."
"Does this mean we're not fighting anymore?"
A laugh on the other end, sweet and cruel. "Yes, Daniel, this means we're not fighting anymore. Call me tomorrow."
Losing this, as brief as it is, is torturous.
"Night, kid."
He hears that voice again, a peculiar tone with garbled language he thinks, probably, is some form of French.
"Bye."
What was that about getting it out of his system? Wasn't he coming here to end whatever twisted thing this was turning out to be? Daniel sighs, looking at Armand's contact info on the screen before the page flip backs to resume playing the downloaded video.
Oh right.
Armand's video.
There was no indication on what he preferred more: a video made just for him, for free, or talking to Armand on the phone.
In the video, the scar is front and center like a specter of horror, a reminder of what was to come out of all of this fooling around but it's also cute, too. A reminder that he was human and perfectly fallable. That he was soft and made of flesh like Daniel is.
It's pretty admirable, seeing a man with a cock this big: he wouldn't have assumed the prissy blonde from a few minutes ago would be packing this kind of heat: it was so girthy and hard that Daniel has to wonder how it'll fit into Armand's dainty little mouth.
Seeing Armand on his knees in the same place he's kneeled was like the rights of passage, it made his already half hard cock twitch at his thigh at the thought of being there, of having almost been the camera man himself.
Was it cowardly of him not to show up or was this a responsible thing to have done? Is it so bad that his desires were indelicate to his morals?
Whatever moral qualms plague him, it all falls to the side when Armand looks into the camera and licks at the slit of this man's cock in three slow lathes, lapping up the dewy bead of pre-ejaculate.
He's so beautiful it hurts. Debauched or prim and sleepy, Daniel doesn't deny how perfectly beautiful Armand is; even with the pinkened, healing scar on his cheek, he's so luminous that he can't help but screen shot the look he's giving to the camera.
His mouth opens some, pressing open mouthed kisses to the flat, pink underside of the tip of the cock and from behind the camera there's a growl, hips pushing forward and his cock spears along Armand's mouth clumsily.
"Sois Professionne." He says through gritted teeth, taking him by the shaft and holding it to his mouth.
"Depechez vous," The disembodied voice whispers in retort. A hand reaches out, taking Armand by the hair and pulling him close to the camera so that Daniel could see the small points of his canines. "Stop pretending to be coy or I'll fuck your mouth."
Armand exhales like he's just been kissed, blissfully and oh so peacefully that it surprises him when he listens: he leans forward immediately, greeting his cock tongue first as he takes it inside, just the tip - just enough to wrap his lips around it fully.
This seems to please the man behind the camera. The hand in Armand's hair is taken back and a groan is heard, loud, even by bar blow job standards. Did they pay the shift lead off? The bathroom's empty, which is odd, and he doesn't know why but the idea that they would pay someone off to fool around in the bathroom was unheard of.
Rich kids, he assumes, the both of them.
Enough money to assure a modicum of privacy he never could.
A wet, lewd sound comes from Armand's mouth when he opens it again, taking more of his cock, squeezing the shaft where he couldn't reach; Daniel isn't lying when he says this man's cock was no joke - Armand was tearing up already and he wasn't anywhere close to halfway. It's then that he's reminded that Marius also has a huge dick.
Was this Armand's type? Blonde, well made men with enough money to get an uber home after paying off bar staff?
His dick was nowhere near their sizes. Not that he was comparing, at all, but he absolutely fucking was comparing sizes.
Looking around quickly, both in the rear view mirror's and the side mirror's, he begins to unbutton his jeans and unzip them enough to get his hand inside to nurse his erection. On screen, Armand focuses on the tip again, tonguing the slit, suckling at him with such intensity that the man hisses with every suck, every hollowing of the cheeks; Armand's lips slide back down, further than before, pushing himself until his eyes close and tears wet his thick, dark eyelashes.
A moan, from both of them, an in-synch sort of sound that has Daniel grabbing his own cock and squeezing just to stave off the pull of empty lust.
Saliva runs down the appendage and around his fist. Armand pulls back, gasping, the downy under eyelashes stuck together in a manner that makes his toes curl. It's then that he uses his spit to stroke the man from root to tip, spreading the saliva until the stroking is smooth and lewd and the man behind the camera starts to push his hips forward, fucking the loose hole that Armand has provided him with his fist.
He kind of wishes he just went with him now.
As he jerks his own cock, he imagines himself with Armand at his knees in front of him, eager for him; eager to suck him off, as eager as he seems to be in the video.
Every time Armand pushes himself back into the man's dick, he goes further and further, pink in the cheeks and getting pinker when he comes back up for air; gasping and swallowing the saliva that threatens to run down his chin.
"Take it all, I want to send you back to Marius with the imprint of my cock in your throat."
Armand doesn't seem to find this as amusing as the camera man does because he glares over his cock, stroking him, squeezing his tip enough that it makes his hips jut forward, giving Daniel a nice view of his pubes.
"Don't give me that look, I know you enjoy when he knows you've been a little slut."
It must be true. The expression on his face goes from bitter to resolved, even resigned, and Armand leans forward again, taking him back into his mouth.
This time, his eyes don't leave the camera lens and he doesn't stop at halfway - Armand takes him fully, from root to tip and the moment his lips meet the base of the man's cock Daniel takes in the man's groan - so loud and growled that it turns him on just to hear it. It's so utterly impossible to imagine a thing of that size fitting in his mouth but it does and after just a moment a sound leaves Armand, something small and whimper-esque, before he pulls back and coughs, turning his head away from the camera while he wipes his face.
The man doesn't seem to care about the delicate sensitives of being neat, though, and he grabs Armand by the back of his head again, by the hair, before turning his face back and shoving his cock back in.
Daniel strokes his own cock in earnest, squeezing the appendage to full hardness as Armand's mouth is fucked shallowly.
He never takes his eyes off the camera. It sorta feels like he's looking at him, looking through him, and it's so goddamn hot that he bites his lip and strokes faster, towards the tip the way he knows he likes best.
All of these men seem to know Armand better than he does, they touch him so roughly, so violently that Daniel wonders if he's ever been given an ounce of kindness in his entire life. He might like it, and Daniel might like watching him getting his face fucked, but there was something detached about it that it's just pleasure - he doesn't feel the same emotional connection to this video. Or any video.
He wants Armand in a way he hasn't seen before. He wants to give him something he's never been given. Wasn't that sick?
Fantasizing about him so intimately while he was jacking off to the video Armand had made for him, just him?
Whatever brazen fantasies about fucking his mouth slowly and deeply that are in his head, all of that is washed away as the man behind the camera begins to start fucking Armand's mouth in quick, jarring thrusts. He's growling, a handful of reddish-bronze curls bringing him as close as he possible can.
He takes it like a champ, that was for fucking sure. Despite Armand's eyebrows being furrowed together, he does little to stop the man from plunging inside so brutishly. He just sits there, hands lifted and grasping onto his thighs to balance the act of taking and being pushed down onto a cock with so little breathing room in between; Spit and come run down his chin messily.
The man behind the camera is close. Daniel can tell. He grips his own cock and tugs, running his thumb along the slit so that he could use it as lube, spreading it around the head, just enough to start working towards his orgasm.
It's the small details of the scene that bring him closer to the precipice. Daniel likes the way Armand's lips are reddened and swollen by the time he pulls off of his cock, wet and glistening like blood. Even the scar tissue on his cheek is paler than it was before, like all the blood was leeched torward the blush in his cheeks. He likes the way Armand eagerly takes him in hand and begins to stroke him, sucking on the end of his cock like he was before but wetter now, his chin and mouth a lewd, slimy hole in which the camera man fucks into.
"Regler," He says before removing his hand from Armand's curls so that he could take his cock from him, tugging on the reddened appendage.
Daniel comes right as Armand sits back and sticks his tongue out, staring into the camera, his eyes wet and dazed and so needy that he can't help himself. He strokes himself through the initial shock of pleasure, back arching away from the car seat, eyes closing just for a moment. It's then that he hears the man from behind the camera exhale loudly, groaning and Daniel opens his eyes to see Armand catching a thick rope of come against his cheek scar and another into his mouth; it's messy and so wrong that it's erotic. He doesn't want to see another man come on Armand's face, he wants to do it - but the aftershocks of his orgasm run through him and he forgets the petty jealousy easily.
Rope after rope of seed is spent into Armand's mouth now and he aims his cock against his tongue, running his reddened cock's tip along the pink muscle.
Inside his jeans is a mess but it's nothing when he finally hears Armand speak. All his worries fade into the background when he finally glimpses a side of Armand he's yet to meet.
"You got it in my hair -" He says with a glare, reaching for a curl at his forehead that has spunk in it.
"Here we go. You didn't say to avoid your hair."
"I didn't say come in my hair, I said come on my face, you brute -"
"If you told me to avoid your hair I would have avoided your hair -"
They bicker like that while Armand reaches for toilet paper, pulling at the roll.
"Don't use that, cher, it's disgusting. Here."
Just as the video cuts off, Armand is given a pocket square to dab at his face.
He really wasn't kidding about not liking this guy. It reminds him of his cousin's at Christmas, the way siblings argue over everything and nothing at all. It would be endearing if he didn't just watch Armand get ejaculated on.
In the car, more sober than ever now, Daniel realizes that he's sticky and gross and he has to drive home like that. He just wipes his hands on his jean jacket in the passenger seat and turns his beater on, sighing. Putting his phone down.
This was turning out to be a real bitch of a situation. Wasn't he here to get over Armand, why was he more enamored than ever? And why, upon finding the missing puzzle pieces of Armand's life, did he want to be a piece of that puzzle?
He was invited inside once already and he'd refused. How many more times would he reject Armand before he moved on? Kids his age weren't patient, they didn't understand the distance of intimacy and the delicate nature of flirting - they just wanted to fuck and be fucked and what if that's all Armand wanted? What if he was just another notch on his bed post, another older man he's given his time to with the express purpose of being perved on?
Daniel doesn't want to be another thing on his shelf. He wants more.