I'm supposed to be working on editing my kinktober fics (I have cloud/gen wingfic almost ready) but this stupid idea for a small a/d fic series has dropped into my head and will not leave me alone so I think you're going to have to put up with that first.
A quick preview of what I'm tentatively calling 'O is for Opera':
Sometimes, it felt as if they were partaking in a very fucked up version of the type of children’s books that told you about educational experiences like getting a pet or going to the zoo or other things kids don’t understand. Sanitised versions of things so the children won’t be scared of having new experiences, except he was doing it with a five hundred year old vampire who seemed to try on personality traits at the same speed he changed his hair and clothes. You never knew if you’d get wide eyed wonder or the old man yelling at the wireless as if he could argue with the contraption.
In tonight’s case, it was Daniel and Armand attend the opera – in which Daniel, still sleep deprived and hungover, woke at intermission in with his head in Armand’s lap while his cool, sure fingers slid through his hair in a way that made him want to stay still, to act like he wasn’t awake at all so Armand wouldn’t stop.
Do you imagine you can hide from me?
It had dropped into his mind, Armand’s voice, and reminded him that such luxuries of pretence were no longer available to him. His body, his mind, his conscious state was just an offering to his personal god, or personal demon, or lover, or truthfully, all of it, all at once and all of the time.
There was no hiding, not from that voice.
It was not exactly the same voice he spoke with, the accent was different and the words emphasised were different, but still so undeniably Armand that he could feel it in the pit of his stomach. His voice had changed since they’d been in London, but not when he spoke like this. It made it electric, a shock to his system and something he craved and despised depending on the moment.
“What makes you think I want to hide at all?”
