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It was an afternoon in mid July, and New Orleans had never been hotter. Thick maroon curtains with golden trim protected them from much of the summer day damage, but nonetheless the sun was a relentless, unmerciful bastard and blanketed the Lioncourt home with a heavy, suffocating heat. Each breath was taken and won with effort, the air so thick it nearly had to be swallowed in. The heat worked its way into damp clothes, through sweaty skin, and nestled down to the bone.
It was so hot that Lestat wanted to peel out of himself.
But he lay there in his coffin, silent and enduring. The lid of his ostentatiously decorated coffin was firmly shut so as to protect him from the murderous radiance of the sun, but at this very moment he believed the coffin and sun were in cahoots, joining forces to make him sweat to death. He didn’t even know he could still sweat to this degree. It prickled in thin blood droplets across his forehead, his arms, and don’t even get him started on his nether regions. He was slick with sweaty blood, dying a slow suffocating death by sun and coffin.
When one breath too many became a struggle, he thought to himself Fuck. This. and pushed open his coffin lid so that he could sit upright. Grimacing at the way his linen shirt stuck to his back, he yanked it off, uncaring of how it further tangled his damp blond locks. It stuck to his skin as he removed it, gripping it punishingly, further aggravating his already thin temper. Finally, it came off and was promptly thrown across the room with a huff.
A creak. Louis’ coffin lid peaked open an inch, the darkness within obscuring him. Lestat looked away from the coffin. Huffed again. Leaned back on his hands, looked at the coffin over his shoulder, and said with as much attitude as he could muster, “I assume you’re enjoying this, mon cher.”
The lid peaked open higher. A snicker. It fell open completely, and Louis, dressed in pin striped blue and white night clothes sat up. He folded his forearms on the lip of the coffin, and rested his chin on them, a smirk catching on the corner of his lips. His green eyes pinned Lestat where he sat.
“Oh, I’m not feelin’ any heat.” Louis drawled, his accent low and delicious with sleep.
Lestat huffed again, then made a thin noise of outraged exclamation, and got up. “I’m gonna go take a shower. Would you like to join me, Louis?”
Louis shook his head, his sleepy eyelids already drooping as he rested his cheek on his arms, the fat of it puffing out. Lestat felt the ridiculous urge to bite him there. He couldn’t tell whether he wanted to do so tenderly or with force, just that he meant it lovingly.
“Wanna sleep,” Louis mumbled, his eyes closing briefly before fluttering open again. “You should come join me.”
“So you’ve decided not to be angry with me anymore?” Lestat asked, vaguely regretting the remark, but the heat was prickling what little control he normally had over his attitude.
Louis’ eyes pried open and he glared at Lestat. It was just awful how good anger looked on him.
Before he could say something, however, Lestat managed a “Je suis désolé, mon cher. The heat is making it difficult to think right.”
He stepped over his coffin and crossed the five feet to his companion’s coffin. He kneeled, and brushed Louis’ cheek with the back of his hand, the heat a welcome sting. He whispered another apology, and kissed Louis’ cheek softly. His beloved’s eyes closed, his long lashes fluttering under Lestat’s breath. He kissed Louis’ cheek once more, and helped him lie back down, taking a moment to savour the delicate rise and fall of Louis’ chest. He closed his own to focus on catching the sound of the powerful red drum behind it. His own heart caught in his chest, stumbling to catch up to Louis’ until they were in perfect tandem.
He opened his eyes and was greeted with Louis’ open ones, a look so tender in them that it tore clean through Lestat.
“Come on,” Louis mumbled, scooting to the right to make room for Lestat. His hand reached out to grasp Lestat’s arm before quickly retracting. Louis’ bedroom eyes widened, and he looked at his palm. He looked back at Lestat and said, “Wow.”
“Yes. Wow.” Lestat repeated, sighing at the break of Louis’ spell.
“I didn’t know we could sweat like that.”
“Neither did I. I’ve seen sheens of pink on myself before, and hints of it on you as well, but never like this.” Lestat examined his arm in the low light of their room. “Therefore, I believe it is in both our best interests that I bathe before taking you up on your lovely offer. You’re welcome to join me, if you wish.”
Louis shook his head and simply said, “Sleepy.”
With a chaste kiss that Louis met halfway, Lestat got up and went to the bathroom. He stripped off his pants along the way, smirking at the appreciative whistle from behind. He teased a look over his shoulder, before heading into the shower. He turned the brass taps to a cool temperature, letting the pressure of the water soothe his itching skin, and wash his salty pink sweat down the drain. He used a chamomile soap on his body, and a complimenting lavender one in his hair - two scents that they both shared a fondness for.
He hummed with pleasure, eyes closed, as he massaged the suds into his hair. His mouth widened into a smile when two arms slipped around his waist and a bare chest pressed to his back, engulfing him a sweet embrace. Lestat turned and Louis’ arms moved upwards from his waist, wrapping lazily around the broad strength of his shoulders.
Louis’ lips were upturned, but it was his eyes that were truly smiling. He pursed his lips, requesting a kiss than Lestat all too eagerly granted. He kissed the fullness of those sweet lips tenderly as he pulled Louis in closer by the waist, delighted in his nakedness.
“Decided to join me after all?” Lestat whispered against Louis’ lips. “Feelin’ the heat now?”
Louis kissed him, his hand migrating to the back of his head, playing with the wet strands there. His face was an adorable mix of mischievous and sleepy, and Lestat felt so strangely happy at the sight of it. What a wonderful face his beloved had, so fragile and expressive it was.
Louis laughed, “Well, I’m definitely feeling somethin’ now.”
He kissed Lestat again, the hand in his hair wandering to his neck, before slipping down the hard muscle of chest and ridges of his abdomen, stopping short at the neat curls of his crotch. His fingers scratched lightly at the fair hair there, before wrapping boldly around Lestat’s half hard length.
Lestat breathed in sharply, the slick heat of Louis’ hand wrapping around him so casually stew something thick and hot inside him. The contrast of the cool water and the furnace that was his beloved was messing with Lestat’s head, the opposing sensations equally focusing and distracting. He gasped when the hand around him squeezed before sliding up the thickening length, a thumb passing over his slit, rubbing there before sliding back down.
“You feel so good in my hand,” Louis whispered, his eyes downcast and captivated by the drag of his hand. “The feel of you’s like velvet. The weight of you - it’s the best feeling in the world,” Louis hissed, his other hand drifting to cup Lestat’s heavy balls.
“The best?” Lestat asked.
Louis shot him a smile and an eye roll, “Okay, not the best. But it’s up there.”
“What’s the best, then?” Lestat asked, already knowing the answer but seeking it anyway. He wanted Louis to say the words, he needed him to.
Louis’ smile morphed into a shy thing and he looked back down, “Don’t play. You know.”
“I’m afraid I don’t, mon cher.” Lestat kissed Louis’ perfectly positioned forehead. Louis stepped closer and put his head on his shoulder, pressing his lips to his collarbone, biting at the skin there. His next words were muffled.
“I cannot hear you, Louis, you’ll have to speak louder.”
Louis groaned against his shoulder, his hand rising to smack Lestat’s chest before resting there and thumbing a perked nipple. “The best feeling in the world is you.”
Lestat smiled and nuzzled Louis’ ear, “You’ll have to be more specific than that, I’m afraid.”
Louis didn’t say anything for a moment, but he continued to stroke Lestat’s cock lazily, not trying to get him off, just relishing in the feeling of it.
Lestat felt a kiss press to his collarbone before he felt a pressure on his chest. Louis was pushing him back, and Lestat indulged him by taking one step back, pretending that the force was enough. Louis’ playful glare let him know that he didn’t entirely sell it.
Their difference in strength was significant, and while Lestat had tried hard to make it not so apparent early on in their relationship, Louis had begun to catch on quite quickly. In times like these, it was also clear that Louis enjoyed it. The way one of Louis’ hand spread over his shoulder and slid down the swell of his bicep to his forearm was enough to confirm that. His gaze was intense and admiring, starving and craving the pale skin, the blue veins beneath, and the muscles that kept him tight. His lush eyes, though lowered, gleamed desire in the low light of their bathroom.
Louis grabbed Lestat's hand and looked at him, “Come on.”
Lestat was tugged towards their bedroom. He couldn’t protest and ask for a moment to dry himself, ensnared in and helpless to those bedroom eyes and teasing mouth. He curled his fingers through Louis’, catching the other when they reached their bed. He was in front of Louis, who had his back to their bed with the back of his legs brushing the mattress.
Lestat brought Louis’ hand up to his mouth and kissed it, “I don’t believe this is gonna help me cool down, my love.”
“You turnin’ me down? You turnin’ this down?” Louis raised a brow, head tilting back, a dare in his eyes and smirk.
Lestat looked down and felt himself grow hot at the sight of Louis’ cock. It was similar in length to his own, but slimmer in girth, rising from a trimmed thatch of dark curls. Pretty.
As if in a trance, he reached for it, only to be smacked away. He looked back up at Louis, who wasn’t smiling anymore. His face carefully blank, true feelings hidden away behind a well guarded locked door. Practised, detached, and more powerful than he knew. He pushed Lestat back once more, but Lestat did not budge. He watched Louis through hooded eyes, mouth parted, fangs aching.
Louis moved onto the bed, tossing some pillows off as he went, strategically arranging others. He settled half upright in a nest of pillows at the head of the bed and slowly drew his knees up, revealing himself. He was a relatively slim man, blessed with clean lines and small swells of muscle, but his thighs were the thickest part of him, their slight roundness practically begging to be bit. As they pulled up, they parted to reveal his ass, full and round.
Lestat felt his knees weaken, and he followed Louis up the bed, crawling to him with eyes locked on those long legs, His lips twitched into a snarl, pulling back to reveal his fangs. He moved fast, faster than Louis had anticipated, and grabbed his ankle. He yanked him down just an inch before grabbing his hip in one firm grip, and wrapped another around his left thigh. He lifted the leg and brought his head down, jaw widening milliseconds before he sank his fangs into the soft inner skin.
His fangs sank in like a knife through butter, clean and smooth. He locked tight around the flesh, moaning at the flood of red heat pooling in his mouth. He moaned again, and drank deeply. Blood tasted like blood - like iron and pennies and salt - but Louis tasted like something else entirely. He tasted like milk chocolate, like butter, like warm, spiced wine. He tasted like his childhood memories of his family’s home, like the swing he used to take turns playing with his siblings on, like the first time he pleasured himself, like the first time he felt proud of who he was, like -
A hand fisted in his hair and tugged.
“Alright, alright. That’s enough.” Louis said, panting. He sounded drowsy, accent full and heavy.
Lestat let himself be dragged up by his hair, guided with another hand on his jaw to Louis’ mouth. They shared a deep kiss, pulling away and coming back for another soon after. When they once more parted, Lestat dove in for another. Then another, ignoring the yanking on his hair. He pried Louis’ mouth open wider with his tongue, licking and sucking where he could. Finally a hard pounding on his chest had him leaning back. He felt drunk and needy, cock painfully hard, smearing streaks across his flushed skin.
“Sit back.” Louis ordered.
It took Lestat a second to digest the words, but he obeyed. Moving further down the bed when Louis made a hand motion to, he nearly whined at the distance between them.
Louis’ legs were still drawn up, his toes a foot away from Lestat’s eager fingers. He was stroking himself now. His long fingers wrapped a loose circle around the dark girth, pulling slow and easy. He shifted further down on the bed, drawing his knees in tighter, his hole beginning to peak out.
Lestat’s mouth fell open, saliva flooding within, and he swallowed so as to not drool. He watched Louis stretch his legs wider, the small puckered hole was now displayed openly. Lestat felt a powerful series of throbs in his cock as it twitched, longing to be buried within that silky heat. He wanted to feel Louis wrapped around him, squeezing and sucking him in, demanding and insistent.
Lestat tugged on his cock, eyes trained heavy between Louis' legs. He watched the hypnotic stroking and winking, glancing up and swallowing hard upon finding those lush green eyes locked on his. Louis’ brown eyes will always hold a special place in Lestat’s heart, and there was a small secret pleasure in knowing that one day he will be the only person to walk the earth that knew what those looked like, but he couldn’t help but shiver at his new set. His beloved’s green vampire eyes were so alien, dangerous, and inviting. Even more so when they were hooded behind those long lashes.
“You see somethin’ you like?” Louis drawled, the rising flush across chest and neck betraying the control in his voice.
Under the mix of summer and Louis’ heat, Lestat’s head was swimming. He couldn’t think straight, just that - “I need to fuck you. I need to have you, Louis.”
Louis’ head fell back against the pillows he’d stacked up against the headboard, and looked down his nose at Lestat. He said, a tremble in his body, “Then come get me.”
Lestat let out a shaky breath, and he crawled forward once more. Instead of burying himself inside Louis roughly like he wanted, like he knew Louis enjoyed, he settled himself on his stomach between those luscious thighs. Grabbing them, he leaned in between them and breathed in the musky smell of clean skin and precome.
“You smell so good,” Lestat murmured and kissed his inner thigh. He didn’t look up to see Louis’ expression, but he felt the leg shake under his lips. He pressed another kiss to it, this time with a slightly open mouth, then another to the healing bite mark, and worked his way inwards from there. He finally reached Louis’ hole, but at the last second he moved up and swallowed his cock down whole.
Louis’ legs jerked around him, clearly not expecting the move. They tried to clamp around him, but Lestat gripped them hard enough to bruise, and forced them open. He felt two hands bury themselves in his long hair, grabbing and pulling. While his grip remained firm on Louis’ legs, he let his head be manoeuvred. The hands in his hair fisted the locks into a makeshift ponytail, and used that as a grip to work Lestat’s head up and down. Lestat moaned around the thick length, his drooling pink lips stretching wide as he let himself be used. He moaned deeply around the hot skin, slurping and sucking at every opportunity that was given to him. He was distantly aware of the embarrassing wet noise his throat was making, but that only turned him on more.
“God, you’re so fucking good at this. Born to suck dick, aren’t you?” Louis said breathily. He forced Lestat’s head down to the hilt, hips arching off the bed to bury himself as deep as he could.
Lestat eagerly swallowed all of him down, nose happily buried in Louis’ pubic hair. He looked up to see Louis’ face, and was delighted at the pleasure he found there. He memorised his face like it was a poem - those furrowed brows, wide pupils, flushed cheeks, and open mouth were heavenly to him.
Finally his hair was released. Lestat slid himself off Louis with a gasp, sucking in air with a wet chin. Without bothering to wipe the drool, he dove for Louis’ balls, sucking one into his mouth, and then another. After a few more sucks, and delicious pulls of his hair, he moved further down and unceremoniously buried the tip of his tongue into Louis’ clenching hole.
Above, Louis hissed and tugged at his hair, “Easy.”
Lestat kissed the sensitive hole apologetically. Above him, Louis moaned at the obscene and loving display to such an intimate part of him. Lestat carried on kissing him there again, which turned into licking and moaning at the throbbing flesh. He eased his tongue in slowly, licking and tasting greedily as he did. Finally, he managed to get his whole tongue inside, the muscle clenching hard around him before relaxing and repeating the motion. He fucked his tongue in and out slowly, jaw widening and tongue straining to get in as deep as could, taste as much as he could. He moaned, face wet and burrowed deep.
The thighs he was still forcing open trembled deliciously under his hold, and were slippery with sweat. The hands in his hair trembled even more as they tugged him back urgently.
Above, Louis begged in a hoarse voice, “Lestat, please. Let me get the oil.”
At this, Lestat softened his hold on Louis. He moaned at the loss of touch when he moved away from him, body leaned over to the left to grab at their bedside table. As a drawer slid open, Lestat began to chase at any skin he could access, biting and sucking wet bruises wherever he could. When Louis sat back upright, Lestat grabbed the bottle from him and tossed it to their right. He grabbed Louis by the hips and forcibly flipped him around, moving him down the bed as he did, until he was face-down against the bedsheets. He grabbed a pillow next and wedged it under Louis’ hips.
“Mon cher, you have no idea how beautiful and filthy you look.” Lestat hissed through his fangs as he grabbed a handful of Louis’ ass. He slapped it hard, watching the globe bounce satisfyingly. He grabbed both cheeks and squeezed them together, salivating at how the fat spilled between his fingers. Louis was fine and delicate everywhere but his thighs and ass. Here he was indecently plump and full.
Unable to help himself, Lestat leaned in and sank his fangs into the flesh, shivering at Louis’ responsive moans and flexing thighs. He didn’t bite to drink, but just to relieve the Louis-shaped ache within him. He wanted to consume him, to swallow him down and be swallowed back. He wanted to slide so deep and far into him that he could never return. He had never felt desire so consuming as this, so vicious as this.
Finally, he let go of the flesh, feeling victorious at the sight of the twin red wounds marking him as Lestat's. It wasn’t the first time he made those marks here, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.
Next, he spread his cheeks, and groaned quietly at the reveal of Louis’ hole. It was still wet from earlier, but this time clenching a wider opening that beckoned him. Lestat obliged, and worked his tongue back inside Louis, relishing in the way the cheeks engulfed the sides of his face, soft and trembling with pleasure. He squeezed the fat as he ate Louis out, turning his tongue into a point and fucking in and out of him hard. He slapped one of his cheeks roughly, smiling at the shaky catch of breath and moan he received in response. After a few minutes, Lestat moved back and spread the cheeks wide again, admiring his work.
“Lestat, please.” Louis moaned above him.
Lestat answered by spitting on his hole and watching it slide inside.
“Please. Please, Lestat,” Louis blabbered wetly, near tears. He was so lovely when he cried from pleasure.
Lestat kept his eyes on Louis’ ass when he answered, “Say the words, and I’ll do anything for you, Louis.”
“Please,” Louis begged. “Please just fuck me, Lestat. I need to feel you inside. I need you so fuckin’ bad. Please just fuck me.”
Lestat gulped at the sight of the wet mess that was his husband underneath him. The strong lines of his squirming back, the twist of his waist, the bunching of his thighs, the curl of toes -
“Lestat, please!” Louis cried, looking back over his shoulder. His eyes were wide, hazy, and rimmed pink.
Lestat got to work. He reached for the bottle and poured some oil over his fingers until they were sufficiently slippery. Pulling aside one of Louis’ cheeks, he brushed his thumb over the opening, before finally sinking in his index finger. He fucked in and out slowly, fangs once more itching as he watched the hypnotic motion. He worked in another finger after a minute, already knowing that they would need more oil soon. But he also knew Louis liked feeling a little sting, a little pain, so he carried on for now. For Louis’ pleasure, of course.
He pressed in a third finger, biting his lip at the tight fit and friction. His free hand was already grappling for the bottle, when his action was cut off by Louis’ moaned protest.
“Fuck me,” Louis’ voice was beginning to slur, the combination of blood loss and Lestat’s fingers making him weak. “Jus’ like this.”
Lestat felt a snarl spread across his face, but he fought down the instinct to bite, and instead focused on making his husband feel good. He spread the remaining oil over his cock, squeezing as he did, and pressed the head to the fluttering hole. He grabbed Louis’ hip with one hand, and with the other eased his cock in until he was fully seated.
They both moaned, Louis with his hips and ass arching off the pillow, and Lestat with a clenched jaw and tightly controlled hips. The hot grip of Louis was so wet around him, clenching and unclenching as it decided whether it wanted Lestat out or in deeper. He was fighting down the urge to rut into Louis like an animal, and instead gave them both a moment to get adjusted to the feeling.
He leaned over Louis and began to kiss his tense neck, and whispered, “Are you okay?”
Louis looked over his shoulder. He was crying, eyes so sweet and glassy. He opened his mouth, a plea in his eyes. Lestat kissed him sweetly, The neck position couldn’t have been comfortable for Louis, but every time Lestat pulled back he would whine and beg for another kiss.
“Keep kissing me,” Louis slurred.
“I’ll turn you around,” Lestat said and straightened.
“No, wait. No!” Louis struggled and feebly swatted at Lestat’s hands.
Lestat paused, “Louis, you’ll hurt your neck. I can take you and kiss you at the same time if you are on your back.”
Louis made a whining noise, a leg kicking up in protest.
He could be such a princess sometimes.
Lestat wisely chose to keep that thought to himself, and instead said, “Let me fuck you like this for now, okay? I know how you need it. If I’m gonna fuck you like this, though, I won’t be able to kiss you at the same time.”
“But we’ll kiss after?”
“We’ll kiss right after.” Lestat confirmed.
Louis pouted over his shoulder but huffed out a quiet, “Fine.” He rested his head down, and arched his hips up higher off the pillow, ass up and inviting.
Lestat smiled. Grabbing Louis by the hips, he began to move slowly in and out. Louis had loosened during their kisses, and the slide was much easier and smoother. The little oil that they had used squelched obscenely as they moved, only adding more fire to their insides.
“You feel so good, mon cher.” Lestat sighed, sliding a hand up Louis’ back to grab him by the back of his neck. He didn’t squeeze, but held him there. Firm and controlling, a hand guiding him to stay down and easy. His thumb strained out to feel Louis’ hammering pulse.
He squeezed, “Do you feel good?”
“You feel good,” Louis slurred.
“Mmm.”
Louis blathered on, mind floating “You’re so big inside me. I can feel you everywhere. Like when you suck my blood, or when I suck your blood,” His breath hitched. “You’re everywhere and so, so big. I feel you here.” He reached back for Lestat’s other hand and pressed it to his lower abdomen.
Lestat gasped. His hips stuttered, and he spread his fingers wide over the skin, marvelling at how he could feel a distinct bulge moving within. He moved his hips in, and felt the bulge move in tandem.
“You fill me up so good, baby,” Louis carried on. He breathed in a shaky, teary breath. “I love it. I love this.”
Lestat waited for a few seconds, then a few more, but when it became clear Louis was done talking, he whispered, “I know you do, Louis.”
The spell was weakening, breaking. A crack that had existed from the very beginning of their relationship was widening, letting in a whoosh of cold air that chilled Lestat to his bones. He felt his eyes tighten, a hard lump forming in his throat. He swallowed it down, and, despite his previous complaints of the heat, chased away the frost and instead fought to bring the flames back.
He tightened his hold on Louis' neck, brought the other to his lower back, and began to pick up his pace. His previous plan of dragging a sweet orgasm out of Louis quickly morphed into one that wanted to split Louis in half and have him screaming.
Pulling out carefully, he thrust back in, sudden and hard. His hips hit Louis’ plump ass with a sharp slap. He pulled out again, and sank back in with speed and force. This time, he must have grazed Louis’ prostate because the man was gasping and shaking for more.
Lestat carried on, unrelenting in his pace despite Louis’ clammy hands scrambling back to touch him, begging for a faster pace. He watched himself sink in and out, hypnotised by the rim stretched tight around him. He dragged himself out until just the head was in, and then swang back in with a wet thwack. Louis gasped as he was pushed up the bed, and arched his back deeper, his hips tilting deliciously in a stirring motion, desperate and seeking, but ultimately futile. Lestat was just getting started.
He pulled back and slammed back in, balls deep. Pausing, he ground in hard, and felt his balls tighten in response to the way Louis was greedily sucking him in.
“Please, please, please,” Louis begged, crying. “Faster!”
Lestat ignored him. He thrust in again with force, ground deep, and pulled out. Thrust back in. Ground deep. And pulled back out. This carried on, alongside the sound of Lestat’s panting, Louis' begging and crying, and the wet squelch between them.
“You’re so beautiful, mon cher,” Lestat whispered, eyes still locked on where their bodies met. He thumbed Louis’ hole, fighting the urge to sink in another finger. “I know you’re well aware of the power you hold over others, the desire you stir within everyone when you walk into a room, but I can’t help but tell you this again and again. You’re the most captivating creature I’ve ever laid eyes on, Louis. No one could ever compare to you.” He said, voice thickening. “I love you.”
“Say it again,” Louis gasped.
“I love you, Louis.” Lestat whispered, fighting back tears. “I love you more than anyone in the world. I love you more than I love a night sky full of stars. More than I love blood, Louis. More than I ever thought I was capable of loving.”
Please tell me you love me too.
Louis stilled under his hands and let out a strangled moan. His hips jerked, chasing release, and Lestat, despite his wounded heart, was helpless to do anything but grant it to him. His thrusts became harder and faster, until he was pounding into Louis. He grabbed his hips with both hands and pulled him down on his cock, intoxicated at the sight of the rippling impact it left on Louis' ass. Their sweating bodies slapped together in the heat as they singlemindedly chased release.
When he felt his balls draw in tight, he reached under for Louis’ cock and stroked it. He pressed himself to Louis’ back and whispered against his neck, “Come for me, Louis.”
Louis let out a choking gasp, a hand shooting back to grab at Lestat’s hair as his body rolled and hips jerked. He spilled over Lestat's hand and across the pillow beneath. Lestat followed soon after, pounding away deep inside Louis, carving out a place to come in. He was burning up as he orgasmed, mouthing at Louis’ slick neck, fangs dragging across the vulnerable skin, claiming Louis as his from the inside. Finally, his thrusts slowed to a stop and he collapsed. They hit the bed together, gasping and twisted around each other.
Lestat took a moment to catch his breath and then slid out. Using his unnatural strength, he manoeuvred them back to their original position, with Louis half upright against the pillows. He settled in Louis’ lap this time, face to face.
“Louis,” was all Lestat could say.
Louis’ expression of flushed contentment began to morph. He cupped Lestat’s face in both hands as if it were a precious thing, thumbing the scar at the corner of his mouth. “Lestat? Baby, it’s okay. You were so good.”
Lestat swallowed, hanging on to his words dearly.
Louis brought him in for a kiss. It was slow and sweet. Achingly tender. Almost enough.
“Why are you crying like this? Did I hurt you?” Louis asked, eyes gentle. He kissed Lestat again, brushing his sweaty hair out of his face, tucking it behind his ears. He kissed his forehead.
Lestat closed his eyes, feeling tears slip down his cheeks one by one. They were kissed away, but more joined soon after. His chest was torn up, his heart a bleeding, wounded thing. His throat was closing, and a headache was beginning to spread across his temples, pounding into his brain. He couldn’t keep doing this.
“Lestat,” Louis whispered brokenly. He shifted down, moving Lestat as he did, until Lestat’s head was lying on his chest. He stroked his hair and back with kind hands, whispering soothing words and pressing kisses into his hair.
Lestat’s hand squirmed between them, resting and pressing against where his heart was. He cried more, clamping his mouth shut so as to not be loud.