vampireblood

open.

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

( oh. how forward of monsieur de pointe du lac. it's enough to bark the softest of laughs from his parted lips, fingers stroking along the curve of that neck still. a neck which he has personally fed from such a long time ago and still remembers the sweetness of the other vampire's blood on his tongue. so much of louis he remembers on his tongue.

a tip of his head back, eyes fall shut, the sound which leaves him one that slips into something more wanton what with the way the other vampire there on his knees spoils him with attention. he was already hard before they even moved themselves up here, their passion there in the den enough to excite and awaken him in a way he hasn't for some time now. louis was always good at that. still is, from the looks of it. never mind the feel of it.

he drops his head down. lets his gaze, dark and filled with such desire for him, land on louis there on his knees and he cradles the side of the other's face with that hand. pad of his thumb brushing along louis' lower lip as he watches him. )

Of course you are. How could you not be?

( lestat has... said similar, before. many years ago now while slipping into the bed of another here and there throughout their companionship, but. things are different now. they had been different then, too. yet in this very moment here between the two of them, he means it with every fiber of his being. how can he not when the other looks so beautiful like this? )

You are the only one I have ever wanted for my companion, Louis.

[ It would be terribly too difficult for Louis not to react to that sweet, almost bittersweet soft peal of laughter from Lestat's perfectly plump lips. How many times has that same laughter been aimed in jest at him in the past, and not in a harmonious chord given the boldness of his actions as it is now. Louis' own lips curl up over the fabric they've been deliberating on, seconds before his pink tongue slips free and runs in cat like strokes over that ever hard, ever desired cock Lestat has always owned.

Oh yes, Louis has long fantasized over the dick in front of him. It's a (presumed) uncut piece of prized jewelry on a man like Lestat de Lioncourt. In his most naked fame, what else could it be. Louis certainly worshiped at it time enough to know. He worshiped the entire form he kneels and pleads in front of more times than he knows how to recall, even in their short existence together (at least by mortal standards).

Taking in the careful gestures given by Lestat, Louis wishes to believe every word that is spoken tonight. He hangs on them, like a man in a deadman's noose. There's no room any longer in the strange brokenness that's seemingly shared between them. They've both lost so much, and the only way Louis knows to heal is this way. It's the only way he can live in the memories he needs to survive, in the love he knows that still exists. ]

Then I will be yours, and yours alone as long as you wish me.

[ At first Louis wondered if the words were true when he said them, but his feet brought him back up to face Lestat, cupping his neck, pushing back that pale blond hair. The eyes across from him told him that Louis de Pointe du Lac did indeed mean those words. He would be with Lestat until the day he was no longer wanted or needed. He would stand for the other vampire, with him, protecting him, loving him like this until that singular moment.

Leaning in once more, he sealed their mouths completely together with a brazen kiss. It stole all his sorrows away, and locked them in the past. It locked bitter memories in a drawer and gave him the power of hope so prescribed to mortals that he knew it was in his right as well. Biting his own lip, he pushed the blood, his very own soul into Lestat's mouth. Louis also used a single hand to push at his pants, working and wriggling so that they would slither off toward the floor, combing his hands around Lestat's back and sides in a new and determined motion again as they kissed. ]

( is forever too long to ask?

once upon a time, he had asked the other man to be with him for all eternity. for their love to last as long as time itself — never ending — and to be by each others side throughout whatever good and bad might find them over the years. for a time, he believed it to be true and despite the pain and sorrows that have fallen them both, there is still that stubbornly optimistic part of him— that very same one which refuses to give up, which believes it to be possible. believes that he was meant to find this man with his mouth pressed hot against his own when setting sail across the seas. that they are and always have been, destined for each other.

he feverishly presses into that kiss. holds tight to louis in ways that tell of how he has no intention of letting him go again. the blood which he's gifted on his tongue causing fangs to show themselves. the thrill it sends through him. hungry for both flesh and blood as the other man fumbles with the front of his pants. yes. those absolutely need to go.

sweet mutterings of his love for the other whisper across dark skin in french, a hand caressing the curve of louis' neck while he drags his lips and tongue along the other side. teeth scatter tiny nicks over the other's skin and with each pinprick of blood that bleeds from them, he laps up sweetly with his tongue, only to replace each lick with a kiss. to deny himself the other any longer than he already has is a self-inflicted torture he is not longer sure he can stand, and so he gives into that desire — gives into that hunger for louis with such fervor that he pushes the other vampire back towards the bed with vampiric force and joins him there within the blink of an eye.

he towers over him, locks of blond falling over bare shoulders. a smile so devilishly soft and so very lestat. kissing him. hard and with the same passion from so long ago. he devours every sound that might spill from those lips while pushing his own back into louis. drowning him in both his love and desire for him. )

[ Visions might have muddled through Louis' current thoughts of Lestat begging Louis to tell him that he didn't love him, wouldn't, couldn't love him. Lestat begged Louis to let him go. Louis refused, even on that very night, that last night that they were to have together. The night their masqueraded bodies swirled round and round, Louis lost himself in Lestat's ever abiding love. It was and never would be over between them. It was why the ever recalcitrant and perceptive Claudia failed to offer Louis the true plans of the evening. His love didn't see the double betrayal set up for what it was.

If he had, Louis would have changed it all, because he didn't want Lestat to die. He felt the life drain out of him as it did from his maker, his lover and even friend. That was in their horrid past, but he could still see the briefest moments of his betrayals, and the burned bridges that lead up to them as the milliseconds that lead up to Lestat answering the feverish plea of his kiss.

Suddenly there's an influx of something Louis hasn't felt until now, and Lestat is muttering his name. He can feel the essence of his life dripping with sweet sex along Lestat's tongue, kissed up as it does. Ridding them both of their clothing with the rending of cloth, pieces of what was are no longer, and will be bought again later.

Finding himself back against the bed, Louis thrusts his fingers up into the never-ending perfectly coiffed curls of Lestat's hair. They never see to fall apart, or be anything less than glorious, reminding him slightly of how Claudia's were always the same. Moaning the syllables and vowels that name up Lestat's name, Louis swallows down the man he's loved for as long as he's known, even when they've said the most bitter of things.

Slicing his wrist open, Louis smears it over Lestat's collarbone and begins to suck and lick over the long line of blood. It doesn't matter exactly whose blood it is. It's only that Louis enjoys the taste of it as they do this with one another. He knows that they will be covered by the time they are finished, and is secure in this knowledge like one is secure in the knowledge a blanket is warm. ]

( it's been far too long since he's tasted louis on his tongue. since lips have trailed over beautiful flesh. mouth draped in red from the sweetness of the other's blood. exquisite. that's what louis is in this moment. what he's always been to him despite his flaws. despite their numerous arguments and petty games they willfully indulged in with each other. there has been and never will be anyone else who can make him feel like this.

fangs grow sharp — fingers gripping tight to that sliced wrist, and he presses his mouth to that open wound in a way that could be seen as lovingly while he drinks his lover's blood from the cut. slow. sensual. locks of blond falling in front of his face as he feeds. he doesn't need it. not really, anyways, but. he wants it. wants to taste louis in every way that he possibly can again and so he drinks. pad of his thumb brushing over the heel of the other's palm as he does. until he finally pulls away. eyes blown in their darkness and desire and blood dripping wet from shining lips, spilling onto the vampire beneath him.

there's a slowness about him as he lets himself look down to louis then. a slowness that remains even when a smile catches at the corners of his red lips, and he leans in just as slow. dripping blood as he goes. before he kisses louis, still slow, as he holds to that bleeding wrist he'd fed from moments ago. )

You enjoy to make a mess out of me, mon cher.

( words he murmurs against now bloody lips, wearing that soft but playful smile on his lips. for it's the first time in an extremely long time, that he feels like the old him again. )

[ No cat has ever gone mad from a few simple licks at its mother's teat. Yet here was Louis, dragging what amounted to a three inch long muscle covered in a carpet of tastebuds across his lover's collar feeling like he's in the business of lunacy and it wasn't even Lestat's blood. Letting his teeth take on the collar he so deftly covered, Louis edged himself ever closer to an artery he knew right below the surface.

Funny how becoming a vampire taught a man a minor layout of the circulatory system. It didn't really tell him the names of all the arteries or veins, but Louis knew that if he moved a few inches below Lestat's collarbone, there's be one hell of an artery, full of oxygen rich blood, waiting for him to prick and take his fill if he so wished, and like all the angels singing their seraphim songs up there in heaven did he fucking wish. Long lashes of his tongue cleaned up his own blood until he'd made a small enough gash below Lestat's collarbone in his subclavian artery and latched on.

Blood trickled down from his lips as he supped carefully, with the reverence given to the god that ruled over his life for so many years. Lestat was not only his lover, he was the man he worshiped and would give his all for. It was only then that he noticed the pulse on his wrist, and the grit of teeth as more blood trickled down his wrist. Taking his free hand he abused it in blood, covering it in the wickedly, blessed substance and smeared it along Lestat's body.

Fingers stroked low and drew pretty circles around the head of Lestat's cock, reddening it with a crimson made of their mixed blood. Louis wanted to laugh, to give into this high that the rich, rich blood he drank gave him. There was something slightly unique about it now. It was a little different now, more powerful perhaps? Closing his eyes, he pulled away and lapped with a gentle kiss over the spot. ]

Oh my beautiful lover. You look so much better like this. I think that you are meant to be covered from head to toe. I mean look at me? Am I just as fashionable, you think?

( this isn't about playing with ones food. many a times has the older vampire done such a thing over the years when in a particular mood or vexed for reasons that are sometimes a little dramatic in their nature, but. this is purely self-indulgence in the sweetness that is louis de pointe du lac. a sweetness which he has been denied for so many years now that to simply have this man and his blood on his tongue once again... intoxicating barely scrapes the surface of what all of this — and he — is to him.

lips drip with blood as they brush over the other vampire's. smearing them in a dark shade of red between kisses and tongue. a feast of blood and sex to come which he can barely contain himself for and he doesn't help with the way louis teases his aching cock as he does. his impatience shows in the way he pepper's louis' neck in nips and kisses, leaving bloody little marks in his wake from stained lips, trailing his way down across his lover's shoulder and collarbone. )

You are as beautiful now as you were then. Captivating in ways no other is.

( words he murmurs over louis' chest, glancing up to him through blond curls there in front of his face. )

Have you missed this, Louis? Have you missed the feel of my mouth on your skin?

( even as he asks, he makes his way down the other's chest, laying kiss after kiss, bite after bite, against skin as he goes. reaching down, fingers curl around his lover's cock and he gives him a generous squeeze before a few lazy strokes. )

Missed the way it feels to be full of me between your lovely legs?

[ Naw, Naw, Louis thought to himself, once more vexed over this man before him and how he could think that Louis, a plain and simple man from such humble beginnings could ever compare to the gilded Grecian statue of Lestat, the man which drew him into the unlife. Feeling the slow pulse of their hearts as they moved to beat in a barely discernible rhythm of motion, Louis inhaled the sweetest scent in the room and felt like he should be the one moving lower. He should be the one humbling himself to lick at that sticky sweet substance, lathing it up from the tip of Lestat's cock.

Instead, he glances down at Lestat as kisses are drawn with the grace of an artist along his chest. He pants softly, a groan here and a small tempted moan there. ]

I have missed it as I have missed placing my mouth in every spot on your flesh as well. I miss tasting you. You are so divine, my love.

[ Dark fingers find themselves in knots and swirls of blond hair. They sweep it back from Lestat's face as he moves lower. The bites are particularly moan-worthy, they have Louis drawing upward, chest laboring forward with every nip and scrape. Every single time blood is drawn he can feel the tug in his cock. It already drips and eagerly awaits Lestat and anything the other wishes for him. ]

Fuck. Yes.

[ Words slowly begin to fail Louis the more he's touched, the slow strokes are like a painful torture offering the sweetest of surrenders to come. His body shivers in the slightest anticipation. Hands pull out of Lestat's hair and nails drag down his back to rip against the skin. ]

You undo me, my love.

( there'd been a number of times when both fought for dominance over the other. sometimes, lestat would fold — allow louis to do to him as he pleased and be pleased in turn for doing so. other times, he would push back at the other. take control and consume him in ways that blood could never truly fill. the night is still young and even with the blond atop the other, he could easily enough be persuaded to relinquish some of that control he takes between them. persuade being the keyword.

the words louis gives him pull a smile from those lips. draw a throaty hum of approval deep from within him and he languidly drags his tongue over his lover's bloody cock. a sight that would frighten anyone else were they not a vampire. were they not like the two of them. messy, in so many areas of their lives. )

Is that what you want, mon cher?

( his own words a melody across the stretch of louis' stomach, pressing kiss after kiss after kiss over skin, fingers stroking the ache there between his lover's legs. )

Do you want me to fill you until you can feel nothing else but me?

[ It has been ages since Louis has allowed himself the deepest pleasure of letting go of full control. No matter how he and Armand fought, and how Louis ended up. It was always like they were players on a stage, gifted out for the audience to see. Armand might have taken a role for the night, but Louis was always, always in the strictest control. At any moment, he might turn and speak out the name Arun, and he would become master of all.

There were no tricks or trades between Louis and Lestat. In the bedroom they both offered of themselves completely into the roles they took on. Louis wanted to beg for escape, for Lestat to take the reigns. He didn't realize how desperate he was for the release of them until this very moment. He knew that the next time it would be his to take, his to command his emotions into a tunnel of love and fury. Not this one, however. ]

Yes. Lestat my love. I want to know you are in perfect control, fill me and make me forget that anyone else ever could. Make me remember only you.

[ Sighing out a well placed breath of air, Louis' hips raised and shifted themselves so that they anxiously worked to fuck those beautiful fingers. Louis moaned out Lestat's name several times over, and gripped right there at his shoulder, pulling him in closer. He wanted more, needed more, and soon would be a righteous man, piously there begging for Lestat to take him, make him whole again. ]

( my love. such sweetness that spills from the lips of his own love. a sweetness he never thought he would have the pleasure of being offered again. and like the greedy vampire that he is, he takes it. all of it. laps it up in every way that he can and treasures it, just as he treasures the vampire beneath him. )

I will never make you forget, mon cher.

( because he's not armand. )

I will make you feel a sort of euphoria that will eclipse all previous moments of pleasure that have come after me.

( it's sounds more romantic. more poetic, to him.

pale hands smooth down the expanse of his lover's torso, lestat settling there between louis' legs. touch slow and sensual. a languid taste of the other's far too eager cock there on his tongue, locks of blond fall in front of his face, and he takes him into his mouth. carefully. a slow and methodical dip of his head down that turns into a steady pace of bobbing. to have louis in his mouth again like this — to feel the way he fills him over and over again with every bob of that blond head of his... bliss. pure bliss that he has been deprived of in his life these past few decades that have gone by. only to finally be here again. to be home with his love. regardless of how messy and unfortunate this could all very well turn into again. he will take it — take him — and love every moment of it just as he had before. )

[ It was those words, those indelible, remarkable words that Lestat would have to use like they were more than words. Lestat painted them across Louis' skin with his tongue as he spoke them. He would never make Louis forget. He promised to never be like Armand. It was erasing that vampire and scourge from their lives once and for all. He would not make it into their sex lives as Lestat was always in the middle of Louis' life with Armand.

This was simply Lestat and Louis as they were always meant to be. Lips upon lips, blood mixing until they were simply one blood, one vessel between them already. They were joined far before their bodies made that connection. ]

You know how to make love to me with words and body. Oh, my Lestat. My Lestat. How I have missed you.

[ Beyond that, Louis remembered his bastardized French and let it ruin his lips because that sounded so much more romantic than anything that could be said in the jaw-strengthening English. Once more, Louis' fingers push back fallen strands. It's so much easier to see when those lovely locks of hair aren't falling like golden rivulets from above into intrepid blue eyes.

Watching the play of his lover's lips draw a perfect circle around his cock, brightly painted red with blood before it takes him in, Louis can merely cry out Lestat's name. He moans in anticipation, and when the other drinks him down, he does his best not to thrust forward. There are so many years of control, carefully practiced. Yet what is control between two vampires? ] Heavens, Lestat, I had almost forgotten. How could I almost forget? The tight, wet heat.

[ There's a thrust, and then sheets crumple around Louis' fist, rending and suffering the wrath of one who wishes to be careful for his love's sake. There's got to be a way to make it last longer than this. It's been so long that Louis -- who would go all night for any other lover, feels himself clinging to the edge. ]

Slow. Slower I beg of you, draw it out. I want you to. It's been so long. I- I am not myself. Lestat!

( the control louis seeks to have in this moment is not lost on the blond there between his legs. it's enticing. seductive almost in the way he fights with himself as he has time and again in their relationship. to know he is the one to make louis de pointe du lac unravel so effortlessly with simply being him... it fills him in a way blood can never quite sate. still, even in this moment here.

he pulls back. a wet little pop on his lips as he does and he lovingly strokes the other's cock as he looks up to him there between his legs. lazy and pleased with himself already. )

Going to come already? Am I really that good? Or has it merely been too long since you have?

( his voice flits in sing-song as he asks and the smile he wears on those wet lips of his is as coy as it is lewd, a lock of blond falling in front of his face with the gentle tilt of his head. perhaps it's rude of him to suggest his time with armand over the years had been... ennuyeux. boring. dull. tiresome. tedious. yet he had still given the other vampire over to the much older one. a secret worn on his lips as he had, yet one which he knew the older vampire was well aware of him keeping to himself.

yet here he is. in bed. with him. again. as it should be, he thinks. as it should have always been. regardless of the years that have slipped through their fingers, he has his louis back now, even if he doesn't feel he deserves him. in this moment, he can be greedy, and see where tomorrow night takes them.

a lazy drag of his tongue along the length of that sorely missed cock, he brushes lips over the head of it. blue eyes daring to play sultry in their gaze as he looks up to louis there. )

Top right. Little to the left. Should be something in there we can use.

( referring to the night table there next to the bed. to get his dear louis ready to take him in full and be filled with all of him again after so long. )

You know how to edge me, lover. Hold the tip, and let me breathe a few moments.

[ There's a slight edge to Louis's voice that he might not have held with Lestat before. Perhaps this Louis might be a smidge more used to having his way than the one Lestat always knew in the past, the one that merely fell apart with one swift glide of those magical fingertips.

It had been a while. The last person to touch Louis hadn't been Armand. It had been Lestat the previous time they were together, but that was a jamjar of them clashing in heat and wonder, barely registering that they were doing any of it in the middle of a goddamn hurricane.

This. This was different. Louis de Pointe du Lac begged for and pleaded for this, not only by his lips but with the body on the bed so blatantly affected, bowing like a perfect string beneath every pluck Lestat drew upon it. Gasping with even a tiny touch still, he felt a heel. He was old and had done this without so much as coming so many times. The power Lestat held over his body, the sway, was still impossibly dramatic, almost as much as the man himself.

Swallowing down all his thoughts, for he did ask for this, he wanted to be taken over from top to bottom, inside and out; Louis arched back and reached for the indicated drawer, producing lubricant for them. Placing the bottle to the left of his lover, he pushed up on his elbow. ]

You will ever do this to me. I can't stop myself when it is you touchin' me, Lestat. I wish that I could. I can look stone-cold at other men, but you can make me fall apart with a look.

( 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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

open.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject