vampireblood

open.

whatever canon point. text spam. picture prompt. overflow. psl. etc.
nsfw content possible in some threads.

( every sound that leaves louis is as lush as spilled blood to the blond. fingers play him in ways they would the keys of his piano — his keyboard now — and he drinks up every. single. one of those notes his beloved makes for him. how sweet it is to taste such a masterpiece on his tongue again. on the tips of his fingers and against his lips. it's not only his body that has missed the feeling of the other vampire, but his heart as well. sorely.

when the bottle is found, he smiles. lips pressing an open-mouthed and lazy sort of kiss to the curve of a hipbone before he looks up to the other. flicks strands of blond out of his face as he does. those words stir something within him. something that he has still carried with him through the years that have passed and even before giving him over to armand. something he is not so sure he can ever truly forgive himself for. )

Fall apart and I will put you back together... as I should have before.

( before he had broken him. the one person he loved in life.

while one for dogs, his movements are more like a cat in the way he crawls up the other's body, seeking his lips with his own. a kiss. soft yet blistering in the guilt and unabashed desire he still holds for the other vampire. much like in the church there when he had told louis of his love for him, it takes him back to that moment — to the possibilities that could very well await them once the moment is passed.

with reluctance, he breaks the kiss. glances off to the side and takes the bottle left there for him. he looks to it. smiles. hums in amusement before he waves the thing around some while looking to his dear louis there. )

How much easier it is now, hm? Before one needed to be much more creative when becoming one. ( a beat. ) At least between men.

[ Forever stirring one another to new and inspired levels, cooking up pots of bubbling toil and trouble like some witch brew as they attempt to communicate all the ingredients of their past and how many were missing from the cauldron full of love, hate, joy, and misery. Feeling Lestast's perceived agony over the pain he caused Louis, the man aches dearly for his part. He didn't allow Lestat always to have what he needed. Where was he when the plans were finished, and the demolition team was put in place? Where was he when Lestat required Louis more than he desired the blood that filled his veins? Louis felt guilt over what he felt he'd done, what he felt Lestat might have thought and gone through with his constant struggle and denial of nature.

There was none of that now. There was only acceptance in the arms of the man he loved. There was only the joining of souls; two once more would bind together with ribbon and twine and be damned as a singular unit. Feeling those lips upon sensitive skin, Louis exhaled a hushed breath and shivered. ]

I trust you to always leave me whole from now on, as I will you.

[Reaching for Lestat, Louis brushes with delicate fingers his fallen blond tresses out of Lestat's face as Louis returns the kiss with the inflamed passion that was and will always be there from that unholy day in the parish. Inhaling their guilt, Louis swipes it away with his tongue and the hands that slide down Lestat's perfect form. He pardons the sin and attempts to assuage Lestat's guilt by reacting in a certain way.

If Louis can come to accept his gift, surely Lestat can be set free. Eyes glaze over as they drift to the bottle, a body anxious in its need once more, still, always. ]

There's not as much needed, such as lubricant, fingers, toys, or whatever might be desired. Tongue.

[A wicked smile flashed at Lestat, as Louis loves to taste every inch of his lover.]

( ah. curieux. an arch of the brow, amusement flickers there across the blond vampire's face. )

So eager to play with toys, are you?

( words soft, smooth, playful in their own way. so much for them to catch up on. so much time lost between them needing to be made up.

a kiss is stolen, sweeter than blood, lestat brushing the pad of a thumb across his lover's chin. the allure of being able to touch and taste him in ways he hasn't had the pleasure of for so many years now is far too great for him to ignore or deny himself any longer. they're in bed. nude. about to become tangled in one another again after so long and the sweetness of such a moment is one he's sure he will not forget any time soon. he never has. good or bad. every moment with louis is a moment he keeps with him.

once more, a kiss. the gentle maneuvering of limbs to come then while the cap of the bottle is flicked open with a nonchalance. held above, dramatically, of course, a generous amount of the lubricant is poured into the palm of his hand, lazy tilt of his head, blue eyes watching the face of his lover. )

Or maybe eager for something else, hm?

( him, he means. of course. )

[ They are their own stage show, a dance macabre of a fashion Louis figures not many others would enjoy so much as they do. Lestat, so golden and meant for displays like this, Louis can only recline on an elbow and watch his gleaming god made of nothing but the finest marble slide over his body repeatedly so that lips can collide and flames ignite the passions that never lay dormant.

It was a flippant, easy lie when Louis said he didn't need or have the same wants and desires. He was so stupid back then. Thank infernal damnation that life turned sideways so that he might be here to watch this display of a bottle and palm. His cock jumped and throbbed eagerly at the sight. Toys, as if. ]

No, my Lestat, there's no need for toys at this moment. All I genuinely crave is your flesh against mine. You know I want to be one with you again. Please, please take me. Make me yours again.

[ The words of a man delving deeper into his deprivation. All he wanted now was for Lestat inside him in one manner or another. He needed touch; he needed to be fucked in no uncertain terms. There was no need to pretty it up any longer. There was a prickling along his body, dangling in his heart that beat so dangerously slow, barely depositing blood throughout his soul.

He needed this like a dying man who wanted one more breath, one more beat of his heart. Louis needed Lestat.

His hands pulled Lestat to him, crawling with nails and slightly heated palms along his chest and shoulders. Slicing through a pec, Louis latched on briefly and lapped at the wound until it sealed beneath his tongue. His other hand stole like a thief in the night down to claim a muscled thigh, squeezing tight, showing intention to move upward and take more if Lestat did not make his move. Louis would turn and take complete control if this play did not begin to climb along its most important plot-line soon enough. ]

( such pretty words alone are enough to rile the blond vampire up there atop his beautiful lover. yet the way nails bite and tear along pale flesh in their desperation to be closer — in their desperation for more has a sharp gasp spill from lestat's lips and eyes blow dark in their desire for both flesh and blood. )

Is it pain you want to feel, mon cher?

( a hand slips between their bodies, wet and slick, dragging itself between his lover's legs. so long it's been. even for him. to resist the urge to simply sheathe himself deep and hard inside his dear louis and watch him take his own desire for him over and over again until they both reach their own personal ecstasy from one another is... difficult, to say the least. especially when the other is marking up his skin as he is. )

The pain of being so full you feel as if you might tear in half before you even get to taste the sweetness of the pleasure that comes from it?

( even as words are spilled onto his lover's lips, he hikes a leg around him — slots himself so perfectly between those legs of his lover and presses the head of his own aching cock against the part of louis that eagerly waits to be filled. lestat watches him, tilt of his head, eyes filled with nothing but an intense desire for this man beneath him and how long it's been since he's found himself in this position with him. )

Show me how much you want to feel it, Louis. Show me how much you want me.

[ Wasn't pain a part of being alive, really and truly vividly full of life? How could they exist without the thrill of pain? The same pain they wrought on those they fed upon, eating up that life force, the blood that kept their bodies warm and allowed them the pleasure of dying when the sun rose so they could live yet one more day? Louis craved it. He was a depraved and filthy thing, covering himself in blood and begging to be fucked into oblivion by the only man who ever meant anything real to him, the only one who knew how to deliver life unto his lifeless corpse. ]

Yes, yes, please. I want to be full of you, only you. Remind me how it is, how your body fits mine, and only yours. No one else can fuck me, can fill me, can use me in the exact way you can. Take me, Lestat; I am yours.

[ Robbed of breath from the way Lestat breathes along Louis' ear, the vampire feels almost faint with desire when he's pulled up tight, Lestat's body wrapped deep around him. Knowing that his cock is mere inches away, Louis purrs out a near whine of need, a keen of feral desire so dark that even incubi would derive power from the weight of sexual energy pouring from his body.

Reaching between them, Louis wraps his long fingers around Lestat's length, stroking it several times before he presses his body down, pushing through an unstretched, intense tightness that could only be made for one person. He's been used and abused, but Louis knows that he's only ever made love to one person. He groans deeply, eyes fluttering closed as pain flares and diminishes the further Lestat grows inside him, joining them completely. Finally. ]

This, you, Finally Merciful Lestat, how I need this, you. Only ever you.

( to feel the way in which louis so willingly— so eagerly takes him in without a drop of hesitation in doing so... ah. this is what it feels to be one again. to be within the love of his life. the one he very well loves more than even himself. this is the sweetness of life which he has craved these years they have been apart and to now have it within his grasp once more — to have it trembling beneath him and clinging to him with a desperation that is impossible to not feel... how unlikely it is he will ever let the other vampire go now.

sweet whisperings of french spill from parted lips there at the curve of louis' neck the moment he takes him in. blue eyes shut. strands of blond tickling warm skin. nails scratching red-beaded lines along an arm and then hip. he savors the feeling — savors the taste of the other vampire on his tongue and lips, drinking down every last one of those lovely sounds that leave his dear louis before teeth pierce that skin lips tantalize themselves over and he slowly drinks from his lover beneath him.

it's with that drink he moves then. slow, at first. a gentle build up of a rhythm they haven't danced together in some time. dry spells had happened between them even back then, when louis had refused him and lestat had needed to find other means to satisfy the hunger of the flesh he wished to indulge in with his companion. but this remains different than coming back together after those spells, given the fact that they had been together still at the time. this... this is a sort of coming home in a way he hasn't felt in some time and it is a feeling he never wishes to let go of again, so long as he can help it.

mouth slipping away from louis' neck, he kisses him, blood stained on his lips — hand smoothing along the gentle curve of a hip as he hikes the other's leg up higher and presses himself harder into his lover. every thrust slowly becoming desperate than the last, the sounds that spill from him both strangled and possessive. needing to feel the other vampire in every way he possibly can, all while buried deep inside him, filling him with the length of his cock as he fucks him there on the bed. turning it from the sweet movements of reconciliation to the more hurried and desperate thrusts of a vampire consumed with its lust for blood and flesh. )

[ That first burn of tightness, taken with a swift shift of hips, plundered deep enough to pierce the veil of both body and soul. Without the pleasure of being opened, Louis' gaze flashed with the bright, desperately wanted pain of victory over the agony of loneliness. This. This has been the only thing that Louis craved for years. Even when they were parted, body after body, he violated, and not one of them would ever know him like this.

The pierce of nail and slice of cock moved through him until, eventually, Louis could move back, had his voice crying out hoarse songs of Lestat's name. It was forever praise upon his lips in want, need, desperation, and love. Louis' own hands carve out their swollen relief in rivulets down the pale flesh of Lestat's back and across his buttocks. Finally, back where he should be, Louis vows silently never to allow this to leave him again.

Hips sluice upward and begin to meet motion for motion. No other proclivities or differences will ever be needed. Louis will always meet Lestat's needs head-on and be there on his knees if he even feels a whisper of unhappiness. This is the one who gave him a second life and breathed life into him again. Wrapping his leg around Lestat's hip, he begins to ride the furious wave of greed, the great need of Lestat's desperation.

Feeling only the bliss of the dead, Louis is lost to the bite of his lover-- world spiraling in upon itself in an orgasm of prerelease, only offered up when one like Lestat sinks his teeth into Louis while he fucks him to the very end of himself. The consummation of their homecoming would turn into a conflagration and their deathbed if lust could be measured at this moment. He moans and grips tight, burying his fingers tight as he jolts his hips forward on a long cry. ]

My Lestat, oh my love. I'm going to come.

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