#from armand's pov: 1924 words

[apoptoses]

To Bring You My Love Armand/Daniel ~2k PG armand hates the subway/cuddling/gratuitous description of how daniel sounds and smells

@rainbowcarousels put the idea in my head to rewrite the subway ride from Pale Shelter from Armand’s pov, just to see how it would be different. Naturally I had to run and do it. You don’t need to have read the bigger fic to enjoy this but I recommend you do so anyways, for extra context.

Also on AO3.

The 72nd Street Metro Station was a monstrous thing.

Armand had a far off memory from his youth of visiting a bee keeper. He didn’t remember the finer details of it, but the experience of seeing the man reach into the wooden box and pull out a panel of honeycomb was one he could not forget. Great viscous globs of honey dripped from the panel, tantalizing and sweet, but what stuck out in Armand’s mind was the bees. The deafening sound of them as they crawled atop one another. It had been difficult to tell where one insect ended and another began, and yet none of them seemed to mind. They stepped on one another without any grace or care, entirely focused on some task the bee keeper had tried to explain. Armand had been unable to take in any of his words. He was too amazed by the swarming, writhing mass before him to hear him.

As he followed Daniel to the gates, subway token in hand, Armand felt as if he were within the swarm.

He would have held on to Daniel’s arm. He was becoming fond of doing that, even though he was perfectly capable of tracking him through any crowd. But Daniel was angry with him. It was understandable, of course- Armand remembered being so unhappy when his master took his leave of him. It was only that he couldn’t bear to explain the necessary steps of keeping Daniel safe.

Daniel had only recently begun to drop his guard around him. Less and less he was thinking about the thing Armand was. If Armand explained to him the necessity of clearing out younger vampires from the city he was in, of hunting them down one by one and dispatching them from their immortal existence and all that entailed, how could Daniel ever look at him and not see him as nothing but a monster? And then the thirst he’d begun to experience around this boy every time he got his heart rate up-

No, Armand could not think of even acknowledging that.

Instead he examined the subway token, a round gold coin not unlike those he’d used to purchase his first set of fine clothes in Venice. There was a Y shape cut out in the middle. He had the passing thought to ask Daniel why, what that meant, but then Daniel was putting his in the slot already. He copied him, watching in fascination as the coin clinked inside the box and the turnstile unlocked to allow him to pass through.

The people around them buffeted Armand about like a ship tossed around on the sea. He kept one eye on Daniel as he scanned the crowd.

Men in business suits. Ladies in bell bottoms and platform heels. Children tugged along by harried parents. A small group of nuns in full habit, chatting as they swept by. A homeless man, asleep on the cold hard floor. A man walking a dog, yes, a dog in this indoor space.

Armand had been in great crowds before, of course. Venice at midday had been a busy place and he’d had to keep the laces on Riccardo’s doublet wrapped around his hand to keep himself from getting lost. But that had been during the day, with the sun shining down and the sea breeze wafting away the smell of humanity. The artificial light within the subway was eerie in comparison. It made the people look like ghouls as they rushed from place to place.

He’d stopped to watch a jazz band play, crammed into the corner, raucous but largely overlooked. Daniel tugged at his sleeve and through the labyrinth they continued.

Together they clattered down the stairs. Down and down and down until they came to the platform at last; that dimly lit, dank place, stinking of sour water and piss. The platform was unbearably crowded. Armand could hardly imagine how they all expected to get on the train, much less where they could all be going.

“Hieronymous Bosch was wrong,” Armand said as they stood at the edge together and waited for the train to come.

Daniel gave him a curious look. “Wrong about what?”

“He painted hell as a fantastical place, lit by fire and full of strange mythical beings. He was wrong,” Armand said. The tunnel had begun to shake. Even the rats down on the tracks scampered to safety. “This. This is hell.”

The train roared like some great beast as it rushed into the station, so swiftly Armand’s hair blew back from his face with the breeze it brought with it.

Daniel laughed and took him by surprise with the way he put his arm around his shoulders. “I imagine most of New York would agree with you.”

The train doors opened. Before Armand could step aside the crowd spewed forth from within the train car, jostling even his immortal form hard enough he stumbled back against Daniel. The car appeared narrow, and covered in graffiti. Armand wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to get in but then he hardly had a choice. People were pushing from behind and he and Daniel were caught up in the current.

Perhaps this was an experience he would enjoy in the afternoon, when he could take in the sights of people on the seats and the tunnels blurring together outside the windows. But now, during rush hour, Armand was in the belly of the beast. People were packed in so tightly he could imagine it would be difficult for a mortal to breathe. It was hard for him to remember to breathe, as unnecessary as that function was for him.

And the sensation of it-

Hundreds of hearts were pounding around them all at once, the sound intermingling with their owners’ thoughts until it was deafening. There was the smell of a thousand different soaps, laundry detergents, aftershaves, all synthetic and cloying. The alcoholic tang of hairspray. The underlying hint of piss and body odor and something herbal that brought Armand straight back to the days he’d spent in a brothel smoking hemp. Around every person an aura burned, colors blending and blurring as they swam before Armand’s eyes.

Armand had learned to tune out his unnatural senses ages ago, but this was a test even for him. He was completely subsumed by the sensory experience of this narrow, miserable train car.

Somehow Daniel pushed them through the crowd. Got them over by the door, where they could lean against the filthy glass. Wrapped one arm around Armand’s shoulders, the other around his waist so that he was held close, protected from the crush.

“I hardly need protecting,” Armand murmured.

A half truth. Against any predator he would be fine, even in close quarters such as this. But against the heaving smells and sounds of the subway car?

Armand needed all of the protection he could get.

“Yeah, I’m aware of that. It’s the rest of the people in here I’m worried for, trust me,” Daniel joked and patted his back.

The doors shut with a dull thud. The monster they were within lurched to life. Around them the crowd stumbled but Armand’s feet stayed firmly planted on the sticky floor.

He couldn’t recall ever having been so close to Daniel before. Certainly couldn’t recall Daniel ever holding him so willingly, but if there was any time it would be a miracle for him to forget his anger and his hesitance around Armand it was this.

Armand rested his cheek against Daniel’s sternum. Slipped his arms around his waist and closed his eyes. Let himself drown in this boy as the rest of existence faded away into the background of his mind. 

Once Armand had found the smell of cigarettes acrid. He’d hated the smoke, the nicotine that stuck to the works of art around him and stained everything hazy yellow. But in coming to know Daniel he’d come to find it a comfort, sharp and familiar as he buried his face in his t-shirt and inhaled the remnants of his evening cigarette. It blended with the smell of the cologne Armand had found for him; the cinnamon and clove and frankincense. A smell that took him straight back to old Venice, that he’d searched so hard in the dark department store to find.

You’re using the aftershave I left for you.

Yeah, well. Waste not want not, that’s what my mom always said.

Armand hardly meant to nuzzle against Daniel like some desperate housecat. It was only that he couldn’t help it, not when Daniel rested his chin atop his head and stroked his shoulder.

He was so warm. The quiet rasp of his breathing joined the rhythm of the blood that rushed through his heart. Daniel had eaten something for dinner and Armand could hear the wet gurgle of digestion within him, an old and unfamiliar sound that was delightful to his ear. Armand curled his fingers in his shirt and pressed his cheek harder against his broad chest. 

Above him Daniel was wondering if he’d ever been held or comforted as a child. If maybe that was why he didn’t do such things for Daniel without being begged.

It felt as if a fist had clenched around his heart. Armand had hurt this boy and yet here he was, sheltering him from the torment of the subway. Daniel was truly better than he deserved.

His violet eyes met Armand’s in the smudged glass on the door. Armand, unable to hold his gaze, squeezed his eyes shut. He would do better. He had to do better. Daniel had no idea how much he’d come to mean to him these past months, that Armand was considering breaking every vow he’d ever made to himself just to have him for the handful of years that was a mortal lifespan. For now that he had been held in Daniel’s arms how could he not seek this out every night from this one forward?

The subway train was beginning to slow. Armand could barely hear the squeal of the breaks above the pounding of Daniel’s heart.

He kept his eyes closed as the doors opened and let Daniel guide him to step back from the rush of people exiting the car. A new flood of humanity got on. Around them the sounds and smells shifted with this new jumble of commuters but Armand paid them no mind. He was safely enclosed in his little space between Daniel’s chest and the cold metal door; in the familiar and wonderful experience of him.

“How much further, Daniel?” he mumbled.

Daniel stroked over his arm, up and down, again and again. His heart picked up when Armand turned his face and rested his forehead on his clavicle. When he swallowed Armand could hear the wet click of his throat. 

“Seven more stops and then we’ll be there.”

I should have just gotten in the car with him, this is a pretty shitty way to travel even for someone who’s curious about anything and everything.

Armand inhaled deeply and ran his hands up beneath Daniel’s jacket. They came to rest on his shoulder blades, fingers spread out as he tried to gauge the width of them. Daniel was so delicate and yet so strong. For the duration of this subway trip Armand could pretend he was mortal again, just a young man curled up in his lover’s arms.

The subway was a perfectly pleasant way to travel, Armand decided. Seven stops could not pass by slowly enough.

#fun fact: from daniel's pov this scene was 719 words #from armand's pov: 1924 words #he's a verbose little shit #anyways have some extra snuggly feelings before I post chapter 2 and break daniel's heart #armand/daniel #armand #daniel molloy #the devil's minion #the vampire chronicles #vc fic #apoptoses fic