"You know," Louis repeats back, syllables further softened by the reemergence of his accent. Affectionate.
Daniel knows so much. Sees so much. A gift that will only sharpen as time goes on, Louis presumes, become something more impressive than it has been. Louis' fingers pull slowly through his hair, working expensive product through to the very ends, before reaching out to draw Daniel in to him.
"Give me a hand," he coaxes, which is just an invitation for Daniel's hands on his skin, to be touched, with the soaps and soft clothes and rush of warm water an excuse for it. "We gonna have to get you something when we're finished here."
Blood. Louis can offer his usual fare, blood in thick mugs, in elegant glassware. But it's too late for a hunt. Louis wants to give Daniel that too, but tomorrow. It will wait until tomorrow.
A shy smile as Louis pulls him close. (Shy, after all that, while being naked in here with him, whatever.) But he does touch him, takes a cloth, slides it over Louis' skin. Everything smells nice. Not as nice as the hints of blood Daniel got from him, but this feels... grounding. It's not the otherworldly ecstasy of vampires fucking around. A normal kind of intimacy that Daniel has lacked as thoroughly as everything else.
"Whatever you've got on hand. No cereal."
Blood in mugs and little dishes is fine. He'll cope. And he'll decide, tomorrow, if he thinks Louis seems like he'll actually be comfortable hunting or not. Daniel is adept at handling it by himself, so there's no pressure, no need of an escort.
"No cereal," Louis promises. Takes advantage of their proximity to sling arms around Daniel's shoulder, cup his face. "I got enough for us."
Louis likes this too, taking care of Daniel. (Always Louis' way, these demonstrations. Actions that hold place for what's too difficult to say.) He likes Daniel smelling of him, likes the scent of his soaps and shampoos on Daniel's skin. He likes Daniel touching him, even if it's just little grazes of fingertips or the warmth of his hand through cloth.
He wants more. Everything. To talk for a week, meandering through topics. Draw opinions out of Daniel one after another. To argue. To make up after. Wants to bite Daniel everywhere, drink him down. Wants Daniel to drink from him. Wants everything, all at once, all the newness of them and all the intimacy of what they will be to each other.
Louis takes Daniel's face in both his hands, draws him down just to kiss once more.
"I'm glad you came to see me," he murmurs under the rush of water. Achingly sincere.
Daniel wouldn't call himself touch-starved. Old people don't feel that sort of thing. You get old and you give up physical intimacy, a normal part of the life cycle; even if he had gone over the hill with a committed partner, they'd be past the point of fooling around and sleeping curled up together, bodies too prone to aches and pains and discomfort. And that's without Parkinson's.
And yet he finds himself sliding his arms around Louis' middle, when he's drawn in for a kiss. Like he still can't get enough of touching him, like he can drink him in through skin to skin contact alone. Under the warm water, against each other. It chases some of the chill of psychic separation away, which is interesting in itself— now that it's been a few minutes, the contrast of being apart, that coldness, feels almost like psychic sensory play, instead of something negatively disorienting.
"I'm glad you let me find you."
Even if Louis didn't do it consciously, he wasn't closed off. Not hiding. Daniel was able to track him down, see him like a candle in the dark.
Louis had tried. He had meant to hide from him, obscure things, hold back, and Daniel had cut through it all anyway. He'd done it easy, and done it mortal. Imagine what he can do now, a vampire.
"I always want you to find me."
Soft words as Louis's hands slide across Daniel's shoulders, down his back and up again.
"Wherever I am, I want you there."
No words for it, only a foregone conclusion. If Louis is anywhere, Daniel is welcome. In his head, in his homes, in his bed. Anywhere. Everywhere. Echoes of anything in the assurance.
A flutter of emotion. There have been a whole lot, tonight. Louis will no doubt be able to feel the tender pulse in Daniel's heart, feeling the continued weight of this, how much it touches him. He's always felt safe, in a way, with Louis. Even when it wasn't. Even when he was being harmed. Safe enough to talk to him still after a reveal of fangs, to curl into him and listen when he was burned up, to stay with him in Dubai even after their sparring, and the muddied memory of his near-murder.
Not a boy anymore, but a part of him will always still be Louis'. Scars, and fingerprints on his heart.
He splays one hand over the other vampire's, to that end. His chest, his heart.
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Daniel knows so much. Sees so much. A gift that will only sharpen as time goes on, Louis presumes, become something more impressive than it has been. Louis' fingers pull slowly through his hair, working expensive product through to the very ends, before reaching out to draw Daniel in to him.
"Give me a hand," he coaxes, which is just an invitation for Daniel's hands on his skin, to be touched, with the soaps and soft clothes and rush of warm water an excuse for it. "We gonna have to get you something when we're finished here."
Blood. Louis can offer his usual fare, blood in thick mugs, in elegant glassware. But it's too late for a hunt. Louis wants to give Daniel that too, but tomorrow. It will wait until tomorrow.
no subject
"Whatever you've got on hand. No cereal."
Blood in mugs and little dishes is fine. He'll cope. And he'll decide, tomorrow, if he thinks Louis seems like he'll actually be comfortable hunting or not. Daniel is adept at handling it by himself, so there's no pressure, no need of an escort.
no subject
Louis likes this too, taking care of Daniel. (Always Louis' way, these demonstrations. Actions that hold place for what's too difficult to say.) He likes Daniel smelling of him, likes the scent of his soaps and shampoos on Daniel's skin. He likes Daniel touching him, even if it's just little grazes of fingertips or the warmth of his hand through cloth.
He wants more. Everything. To talk for a week, meandering through topics. Draw opinions out of Daniel one after another. To argue. To make up after. Wants to bite Daniel everywhere, drink him down. Wants Daniel to drink from him. Wants everything, all at once, all the newness of them and all the intimacy of what they will be to each other.
Louis takes Daniel's face in both his hands, draws him down just to kiss once more.
"I'm glad you came to see me," he murmurs under the rush of water. Achingly sincere.
no subject
And yet he finds himself sliding his arms around Louis' middle, when he's drawn in for a kiss. Like he still can't get enough of touching him, like he can drink him in through skin to skin contact alone. Under the warm water, against each other. It chases some of the chill of psychic separation away, which is interesting in itself— now that it's been a few minutes, the contrast of being apart, that coldness, feels almost like psychic sensory play, instead of something negatively disorienting.
"I'm glad you let me find you."
Even if Louis didn't do it consciously, he wasn't closed off. Not hiding. Daniel was able to track him down, see him like a candle in the dark.
no subject
Louis had tried. He had meant to hide from him, obscure things, hold back, and Daniel had cut through it all anyway. He'd done it easy, and done it mortal. Imagine what he can do now, a vampire.
"I always want you to find me."
Soft words as Louis's hands slide across Daniel's shoulders, down his back and up again.
"Wherever I am, I want you there."
No words for it, only a foregone conclusion. If Louis is anywhere, Daniel is welcome. In his head, in his homes, in his bed. Anywhere. Everywhere. Echoes of anything in the assurance.
no subject
Not a boy anymore, but a part of him will always still be Louis'. Scars, and fingerprints on his heart.
He splays one hand over the other vampire's, to that end. His chest, his heart.
Anything, agreed.