#* stlispenard / lestat .

[masteredinstinct]

cont. from here / @stlispenard

it's a tricky tight rope he has chosen to walk on , but louis cannot help but balance himself on the curb outside monsieur de lioncourt's home on a daily basis . he does not linger by the man's steps on purpose , OF COURSE NOT . it just so happens that his new friend found residence on his path from home to work ㅤ─ ㅤ otherwise louis would not glance at his balcony during his walks , would not choose to smoke by the streetlamp outside his doorstep , would never feel a sting of disappointment when he did not find a full head of golden hair roaming through rue royal ... louis had made a new friend and was excited about spending more time getting to know him . that was all .

never mind the evenings spent writhing against bedsheets in which he had to cover his eyes in shame whenever he found himself remembering lestat's hands or stare or lips . he'd refuse to think of the one time he had whispered for the man's name and imagined him answering with the same fervour from miles away . there was no safety net to catch him . louis feared the fall and yet , he soldiered into the unknown , willing to live with the guilt of these fantasies as long as they remained as such .

lestat and he frequented the same spots . of course they would bump into each other ( of course , of course ! ) . his playfulness , though sometimes improper , always brought a smile to louis' lips . harmless teasing , none of it meant to humiliate or diminish him ㅤ─ ㅤ it was hard , not to yearn for the other man's attention . even during their walks , whenever their gazes met , louis felt as if his heart skipped a few beats . SUCH ODD BRIGHT EYES ; and they watched louis as if he had words printed onto his fucking face . what man stares at another like that ? ㅤ" yeah . "ㅤ he'd answer whenever he was caught slipping . ㅤ" yeah , everything's fine . "ㅤ and lestat would curl his lips and louis would feel himself getting hot under the collar . does he know ? he'd wonder . have i been found out ? no . he'd conclude . that'd be impossible .

the rain threatens to put an end to their encounter but louis had come prepared . to watch lestat falter on his words when he held an umbrella open for him had left louis in an excellent mood ㅤ─ ㅤ those moments of surprise in which he managed to catch the frenchman off-guard , felt like small triumphs . perhaps it was due to their rarity . perhaps because it reminded louis that , despite all of his bravado and savoir-faire , monsieur lioncourt was still human . or perhaps it was because he liked the shape lestat's lips formed whenever he gasped . his brow knitted . do not go there . ㅤ" pessimism ? s'that how you see me ? " ㅤlouis chuckled . ㅤ" and here i thought i was a realist . "

his hand moves to grab the umbrella and louis can feel lestat's skin touching his . he hates that he notices how gentle his hold is . hates how he'll be thinking of that brief moment of contact for the rest of the week ㅤㅤ─ ㅤ and when louis glances at lestat he swears he knows this too . ㅤ" sounds good . "ㅤ he mumbles , turning his head to glance down the street , pretending to be looking for shelter and not away from lestat . ㅤ" what you thinkin' ? the fair play saloon ? "ㅤㅤ he shrugs . sitting close to lestat , spilling his heart out to him , letting their arms touch ... IT FELT SAFER THERE . nobody would judge such closeness between two men if they were assiduous clients at a whore house . hell , maybe this way louis would manage to continue fooling himself too .

[hisinstinct]

[ STRADDLE ]:  sender  sits  in  receivers  lap  to  tease  them. / lestat / @stlispenard

whiskey and jazz were an insidious combination for any man who prided himself in having self-control . louis knew how to hold his liquor , years of obsessing over presenting himself a certain way had made him pretty darn good at not making a fool of himself . he had grown used to sit still through his drunkness , watching those around him freely exhibit the most embarrassing parts of themselves to the world unapologetically , loudly and WITH GLEE . louis would judge them from his chosen corner but , in reality , he ached to stand with the rest of the world on the other side of the curtain .

in came lestat de lioncourt , with his european sensibilities and wide smile , effortlessly kicking in all of the locked doors louis had been hiding himself behind to pull him by the arm , out of the darkness and into spotlights he had never thought himself capable of standing in . of course , lestat was much better suited for the new orleans' nightlife than he was ( yes , better than he ! a child of that city , born and raised ! ) . his loud laughter was contagious and the ease with which he enchanted everyone with his looks and his money and his charisma maddening ㅤ ─ ㅤ once again louis had been confined to sit by and watch . but he did so happily : watching everyone in the saloon's lobby break into drunken singing with lestat as their passionate maestro was more entertaining than any band performance .

and whenever he'd turn his head to throw a glance at him , to smile , to make a face , louis could not help but chuckle . to be seen by lestat , the man EVERYONE ELSE COULDN'T TAKE THEIR EYES OFF OF made his heart throb . eventually , between the music and laughter , his friend made his way to him . imagine that , a performer , stepping down from his applause filled stage to mingle with the wretch in the back seats . he was still singing , his deep mighty voice too loud for louis' sensitive ears ㅤ ─ ㅤ and lestat must have enjoyed watching him squirm with discomfort because he leaned over him , planting a knee on the sofa louis had established as his final resting place for the evening .

he presses a hand to the blond's ribs when he thinks he sees him lose his balance . one of lestat's flailing hands nearly hits louis in the face as lestat climbs on top of him , completely dedicated to the performance of his song . " hey , hey ! easy , this a new suit . i ain't tryin' to wrestle nobody , c'mon ㅤ ─ ㅤ ! " his friend's excitement was contagious and louis only wished to find a way to ensure lestat remained in that state for as long as possible . louis is smiling up at him and it takes him a while to realise lestat had gone silent . the world around them continues to singalong to a piano's tune , oblivious to their conductor's whereabouts .

louis chuckles while patting his friend's side . but after a couple of heartbeats his smile fades into something more subdued . lestat had gone awfully still while sitting on his lap . both of his knees were firmly planted on the sofa , straddling louis while gazing down at him with a grin he thought he had seen once before in the early hours of the morning , while laying in his bedroom , alone . both of his hands slowly slide down the frenchman's ribs , only stopping when they reach lestat's waist .

" c'mon . " louis urged , his voice completely emptied of any urgency . and as he watched lestat , he thought his eyes looked much darker than he remembered . perhaps he had been offered something by one of the girls ㅤ ─ ㅤ but , for some strange and vain reason , louis thought it might be because of him .

his thumbs pressed tentatively against lestat's hipbones , where the skin was thinnest and , when there were no protests to be heard , his hands tightened their grip on the other man's waist , pulling him closer to his chest . louis' instinctively bucked his hips up against lestat , the tightness growing between his thighs louder than any song the fair play saloon could conjure . every part of him wanted to be buried in the other man's flesh . the fingers shyly encouraging lestat to grind against his lap inched closer to the bottom of the blond's back . would he gasp like he had that rainy evening , if louis were to grab his ass ? what sort of sounds would lestat de lioncourt produce if he could feel the growing erection in louis' pants press up against him ? the warmth of the alcohol in his belly had rushed down south and suddenly all louis could think about was how to make the man above him squirm .

louis suddenly hears someone whispering his name ㅤ ─ ㅤ perhaps he heard it wrong ... perhaps it was the madame whispering to one of the working girls tout suite . either way , the panic which came with being found out caused him to shove the blonde off of him with all the strength he had left in his arms . louis stared at lestat with burning dark eyes ; desire has given place to disgust . " cut that shit out . "

[wolfkilermoved]

@stlispenard [ NICKI ] said : just wait– everything’s going to get worse

" oh , you do yourself no kindness being so pessimistic . " to rid any potential sting from his words a broad shoulder seeks the easy warmth of nick's own . they both sit away enough from the fire and revelry - a mutual decision , though where nicki claimed an ache in his head , lestat bowed out of any further dancing under the idea that his feet could no longer hold him , when in reality it was his boots that felt as though they might give out - to not be overheard or let the noise overtake them .

their new closeness allows him to reach out , to have his fingers curl around the neck of the bottle that hangs loosely in nicki's grip between his knees . the barely there dregs of it brings a slight frown to his features , so he downs the rest before setting the old wine aside , smacking his lips together at the bitter taste and relishing in the echoed warmth of nicki's mouth . " paris is a great beauty with no expectations or demands . we should enjoy it , not exist waiting for its bite . "

[roseguided]

𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐈𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐆𝐆𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄. with turning her instead of trying to take her to a hospital, to get her medical attention from anyone. he needed to do something right, something good, & he felt he could if he saved her. if he got lestat to turn her. while she does struggle with having her mortal life taken, & with it the possibilities like a family or marriage, she doesn't hold near as much resentment inside of her anymore. no true anger. the moments come in flashes, gone as soon as they come. louis was her family, her father for a time & her brother now. & claudia loved him almost unconditionally like he did her.

@stlispenard said, " I'D GIVE UP EVERYTHING FOR YOU. "

red eyes that study his face as he speaks softened just like her features. ❛ i know y'would, louis, ❜ says claudia in a gentle tone, feet stepping forward until arms wrap themselves around the mans middle. cheek presses hard against the center of his chest, as cool & unmoving as her own. eyes close momentarily in the moment, ❛ no ones ever cared so much f'me before you, ❜ she admits, ❛ thank you f'choosin' t'love me. ❜ ( please, don't choose someone else over me again. )

[operahouses]

𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐈𝐒  𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒  𝐁𝐄𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐃  𝐇𝐈𝐒  𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐍,    hands  hovering  for  a  moment  before  he  starts  with  the  shirt.   The  silk—pale  as  cream—slips  between  his  fingers  like  water.   Lestat  stands  still,  shoulders  relaxed  but  proud  like  marble  carved  into  a  perfect  statue.   This  ritual   ...   these  moments  of  intimacy  that  are  merely  domestic  feel  almost  reverent—like  a  priest  preparing  a  vestment.  He  knows  every  inch  of  Lestat’s  body   ...   has  studied  it,  committed  it  to  memory   ...   &   yet  it  always  feels  new  in  the  day’s  next  light.   He  slides  the  shirt  up  Lestat’s  arms,  watching  the  fabric  ripple   &   cling.   It  catches  on  the  muscle,  outlining  the  lean  strength  before  falling  into  place—smooth,  pristine.

Adjusting  the  collar,  Louis  is  careful  to  gently  graze  the  soft  skin  of  his  beloved's  neck,  contact  light,  deliberate   ...   every  brush  of  his  fingertips  a  playful  touch.  The  buttons  come  next,  each  one  a  careful  endeavor.   The  small  discs  of  pearl  shine  faintly  in  the  firelight,  reflecting  the  low  flicker  of  the  fireplace  nearby  in  their  coffinroom.   Louis'  fingers  twiddle  around  the  first  button,  careful  to  handle  its  dainty  shape  between  deft  digits.   He  presses  the  button  through  its  hole,  pulling  the  fabric  just  enough  to  fit  snugly.   With  each  button,  Louis  feels  as  though  he  is  sealing  something  away   ...   Lestat’s  chest,  broad   &   unmoving,  seems  almost  untouchable  once  it’s  hidden  behind  the  silk.  The  quiet  breaks,  Louis'  voice  low  but  gentle.

❝  You  never  could  stand  doing  this  yourself,  ❞    he  teases,  peering  up  from  the  last  button  of  @stlispenard 's shirt.    ❝  …   Could  at  least  pretend  to  be  a  little  self-sufficient.  You  act  like  you  can’t  even  find  the  buttons.  ❞

[masteredinstinct]

[ CHIN ] as they stand close to one another, the sender hooks a finger and tenderly lifts the receiver’s chin, tilting it up so that they can look at one another, and running a thumb across their skin lightly. / lestat @ louis

it had been random luck .

louis was seeking to acquire a new art piece ; franz marc's tiger would have had no room in the home armand and he had built but now , as he tried to redefine who he was and where that person might fit in the world , louis found himself drawn to brighter shades , no longer depicting the horrors of the self but the small glimpses of beauty the world had yet to offer . his seller , however , had not proven himself trustworthy during their communications . louis insisted on a personal visit so that he and his team might inspect the painting . it wasn't surprising finding posters of the vampire lestat's concert all over london ( he recalls having heard of an european tour at some point ) . what was surprising was finding the dates coincided with his own visit to the capital .

it had been random luck .

of course louis would buy a ticket , it'd be rude not to . he'd be standing way in the back of the venue , watching @stlispenard basking in the attention of hundreds of people , widening his eyes at the excitement and hysteria that he managed to pull out of the crowd through his performance , feeling his heart skip a beat every time those eyes seemed to find his ... and when it was all over , he'd be waiting . standing alone outside the building , hoping to catch lestat by surprise ㅤ─ ㅤ of course , when he steps out , all of him an extravagant explosion of colours and patterns with his damn yellow hair and bright eyes , louis is the one who is left breathless . franz marc's tiger , staring right at him .

none of them had time for this detour . the world kept spinning even though it felt awfully still whenever he had lestat by his side . all they could afford was a walk through the city , catching up on everything they had missed in each other's lives , occasionally touching on the past but always trying to steer away from it , trying to enjoy the few hours they had together , trying , trying , trying .

it's only when they reach his hotel that louis realises how horrible of an idea this had been . the walk had felt too short . every time he was pulled into lestat's orbit louis was left with a bottomless want in his stomach , so demanding and needy that it made him embarrassed . HE'D NEVER HAVE ENOUGH OF LESTAT . and these occasional encounters did nothing to satiate the need he had for that man . louis did his best to muster a goodbye but the fingers that touch his chin and guide him to look back at him do nothing to help . he ㅤ─ ㅤ they never made it easy for each other .

" i ain't inviting you upstairs if that's what you're thinking . " louis says with an arched eyebrow . there's a smile in his voice , like he's teasing him , like this is a joke ... as if levity could spare them both from the inevitable . " we got places to be tomorrow . " he was quick to remind himself after staring at lestat's lips for a second too long . " us being here at the same time was just random luck . " he lied .

[masteredinstinct]

cont. from here / @stlispenard

louis would have never stepped into a place like that .

the decadence began well before he stepped through the entrance : shivering bodies crowded in a fenced in corner , healing their nicotine addiction through laughter and coke fuelled conversations while , just a meter away , a girl held her friend's brightly coloured hair as she vomited every meal she had had throughout the day . the odour which spilled out of the club every time the doors were pushed open was obscene ( sweat , alcohol , tobacco , sex , bitter drugs , bitterer blood --- ) but it still called to the dozens of extravagantly dressed people queueing outside , eager to be freed of all the inhibitions of daytime .

louis would have never stepped into a place like that . but he did wait to be let in and paid a generous extra fee in order to persuade security to ignore the dress code . and once he got down to the dance floor , louis du lac felt as if he had entered a fresh new layer of hell . the loud music climbed up the walls and vibrated through every bone of the vampire's skeleton . the strobe lights caused the dancing bodies to flash in and out of existence and yet , despite all of the chaos , louis could hear only one thing ; a heartbeat echoing through the ether , calling to him , beckoning more than any flash of exposed skin or artery --- lestat de lioncourt was there . and that by itself might not have been a crime but , the fact that he had not gone looking for louis after he had extended a clear invitation to him , had been enough to propel mr. du lac to get on a plane and hunt him down .

pushing through the sea of people posed no challenge . plenty of humans protested or did a double-take whenever louis nudged past them , noticing how out of place he looked in his tweed . louis would have never stepped into a place like that . BUT THERE HE WAS ; he would have recognised lestat with his damn eyes closed . and even just a glance at the back of his blonde head had sent his heart into a frenzy . never mind that he had his face buried in a young woman's neck ( louis knew better than to be jealous , but still felt his jaw clench at that sight ) , he was quick to press his hand to lestat's back and guide him out of the nest of contorting bodies .

not a word is shared between them . louis cannot afford to give reason any room ; he fears lestat might try to persuade him out of getting what he wants again . though he doubts he can --- not when he can feel lestat's heart pulsating when they hold hands . not when they finally reach the backroom and louis pins him up against a wall to crash his lips into his , kissing the laughter right off his pink mouth . one of louis' hands latches onto the other man's jaw , making sure he keeps him still as he deepens the kiss , tasting every inch of lestat's mouth he can before the blond attempts to ruin the moment with words . louis cannot help but inhale sharply , the kiss too hungry and eager for a man who had named himself a master of his instincts . but god , he had missed him --- louis had missed lestat too much to sit idle and wait .

[hisinstinct]

he cannot see him . with his eyes shut tight and pressed against the pit of his elbow , louis tries his best to find composure amidst the darkness he finds there . but it is useless ; even blind he can feel lestat all around him , drowning him with his scent , with his touch , with his voice --- this is a tide he will gladly be consumed by . to let his lungs be filled by him and him alone , to sink down into the depths of lestat de lioncourt , never to be found again : there was no sweeter death . louis knew this because he had experienced it before ( upon holy ground on a blood splattered altar ) . and now , writhing under lestat , louis wondered how he could have ever missed living .

it always caused a chill to run down his spine , finding him lingering by his dubai apartment's door , by the balcony , to have him knock or call or show up uninvited to disarray the staff's work schedule . louis would lecture him at times . but he'd never turn lestat down . he'd watch with sorrowful enthralment how his pale eyes would always linger on claudia's dress or how he'd observe paul's portrait with neatly folded hands ( god , louis wished he could navigate through his thoughts whenever lestat went into quiet contemplation ) . and in those moments , when lestat had his back turned to him , louis looked like a man in love .

that evening , the louisiana man thought he had heard something weak and pleading in the blond's voice : the great vampire lestat , glowing like the star he was , looked horribly frail . louis had foolishly thought it might have been malnutrition ; he was well aware of how lestat enjoyed copying his own eating habits whenever plagued with self-hatred . but rat blood would never satisfy lestat de lioncourt --- what a picky eater you are. so louis had guided him towards the dining room , hoping lestat would let him feed him . but before he could ever make it to the kitchen , louis had been crowded by his guest . the proximity had not been unwelcome ( he feared it would never be when it came to lestat ) but it had caught him by surprise to find that the root of lestat's pitiful state was a very different kind of hunger .

between the frenetic kissing and grabbing , louis had found himself splayed upon the dining room table , clawing at lestat's back , burying his face in the other's neck and pressing his lips to his jugular in a never ending cascade of kisses . he's unsure of when their clothes became an obstacle to their affections , but , soon enough , they are only half-dressed . as much as louis tries to yank lestat's poor excuse for a shirt off of him , all he manages is to roll it up until both hands can feel his exposed chest . but it is not the flesh under his hands which causes his back to arch and his brow to furrow .

pain and ecstasy fill him just as lestat does and louis tries to contain the overwhelming pleasure by hiding . at first he tries the valley of the blond's shoulder , then his yellow hair , then against the palm of his hand , finally he seeks shelter by bending his arm over his eyes . louis fears that looking at lestat hovering over him might be too much . that having him this close once again and revealing to the vampire just how much louis had been desperate for this sort of reencounter , might set the world ablaze ... might make both of them weak and stupid again . but he cannot help but grunt an ungodly sound when lestat bucks his hips at a certain angle . louis would have felt shame if he had realised that the noises spilling from his lips only manage to form one single word ( lestat , lestat , lestat ) but conscious thought is out of reach as long as louis' legs remain wrapped around his paramour's waist .

“ tell  me  you’re  mine. " / @stlispenard

it is not an order nor a taunt but a plea . one which causes louis' jaw to clench in an attempt to sink his teeth back into reason amidst the pleasure building in the depths of his stomach . " yours . " he manages to say with half his face still hidden . " god , lestat --- " louis hissed , squirming on his back in a weak attempt of trying to find his bearings . " always been yours . " the confession slips from his tongue in a lazy drawl . louis might later regret admitting to something so earnest so easily . but , right now , he does not seem the least bit concerned .

[hisinstinct]

[ DRIVER ]:  sender  goes  down  on  /  touches  receiver  while  receiver  is  driving. / @stlispenard - lestat de lioncourt

every time louis ran into lestat he told himself it'd be the last time . love had made him into a deceitful monster : six months ago in mexico city , he lied . four months ago in new york , he lied . two months ago in lisbon , another lie . one month ago , marseille , still a liar . today , the vampire lestat had taken over berlin and louis feared he'd get caught in yet another deceit . but how could he not ? the magnetic pull of lestat de lioncourt travelled across continents . everywhere louis turned , his mind always found a way to return to the frenchman's arms . ANOTHER RULE BROKEN , for , the more time he spent with his past ( present ? future ? forever ? ) paramour , the more difficult it became for louis to avoid affection .

it ached to share a space with lestat without reaching out and touching him . and that evening had been no exception ㅤ ─ ㅤ they had sat in the james-simon-park for hours on end , talking , laughing , teasing , sharing moments of silence which became more and more pleasant with each visit . louis hands no longer slipped into his pockets whenever they felt lestat's fingers brushing over their knuckles . his eyes didn't shy away from prolonged eye contact . and , this time , louis had been the first one to lean in and press his lips to lestat's . A VAMPIRE ROMANCE , hesitantly rising from the embers of a sleeping fire .

these tender moments felt far more dangerous than the explosive fights they'd occasionally have which would quickly turn into desperate fucking . these sudden and clumsy collisions between the two of them were not regretful ( louis kept the vivid memories locked away in a corner of his mind to revisit when the days got particularly lonely ) but still made the vampire cringe ㅤ ─ ㅤ HE HAD BETRAYED HIS OWN PRINCIPLES YET AGAIN . all because of lestat de lioncourt .

and now their rendez-vous were undecipherable ; they were not companions . they weren't just friends . definitively not rivals . they were some strange muddled fourth thing which neither of them could name . louis felt pathetic following lestat around like this , but he held no expectations besides being able to bathe in his light from time to time . to know that , despite everything , lestat de lioncourt had survived to be as loud and obnoxious and beautiful and daring as he was meant to be . while they walked towards louis' rental car it took everything in his body not to reach out and hold lestat's hand .

driving lestat to his hotel was filled with small variations of not-gonna-be-around-for-a-while and dropping-you-at-the-hotel-and-that's-it . lies both of them had grown used to telling , as they were painfully aware of how inconsequent they were in the great scheme of their relationship . the song playing on the radio did nothing to make louis sound more convincing in his declarations . and whenever he dared a glance at the man sitting beside him he'd find pale eyes already waiting for him . pink lips with their corners curled in quiet contemplation , passing car lights occasionally drawing a halo around lestat's yellow hair . louis tightened his grip on the wheel .

at some point he sees lestat leaning in from the corner of his eye and he immediately finds out why the space between them diminished . lestat's hand snakes its' way across louis' thigh to find his crotch and every nerve in his body lights up . he sits up straighter , eyes on the road ahead , trying to ignore the rising heat beneath his collar . " you trying to make us crash ? " louis meant to sound humorous but there's no smile to his lips or words . each twitch of lestat's fingers around him makes louis' mind travel to a number of different scenarios . he considers pulling up into some secluded area where he can show lestat just how much he had missed him . ponders undoing his pants and allowing the other vampire's skin to come in contact with his own . louis exhales shakily when he feels the heel of lestat's hand press against a hard spot .

the cars which drive past them in the dark are nothing but travelling lights . as long as they don't stop , both of them are suspended in limbo . NOT QUITE THERE , NOT QUITE GONE . louis feels his chest heaving . " you're gonna get in trouble if you keep that up . " louis says , his voice surprisingly steady . in this century , that sentence does not sound like a fearful warning anymore ㅤ ─ ㅤ it sounds like a promise .

[wolfkilermoved]

@stlispenard    :  eat. a simple enough instruction. it’s a primal instinct, after all. nicolas had taken to feeding like a child takes to nursing at its mother’s breast. eat. the first bit of hunger had possessed him, divorced his mind from his body, negated all other needs and sentiments. it’s a blur now. whatever prompted his body to sustain itself he will never understand, but then, he supposes, the body will endure even when the mind will not.      nicolas stares at the arm lestat has raised from the floor like he is trying to auction it off. an excellent piece, plump veins, wine-drunk. he knows he means for him to latch onto the wrist and feed but instead nicolas laughs humorlessly, “have him for yourself, lestat.” it is not act itself that repulses him but the being so close to death. it’s taunting him. always close, never his.       “it’s perverse, is it not? death giving life to … well… the dead, i suppose.” if nothing else, philosophy will probably kill his appetite. if the hunger makes him half-mad and mindless then he wants to tame it. he wants to keep hearing himself think and talk. nicolas takes a few steps back to distance himself from the sight and smell of it all. tempting, fiend. as ever you were, mon ami. he closes his eyes so he can only imagine lestat with his red mouth against that poor man’s skin and his teeth puncturing it with ease and pleasure.       eat.

regardless of its small edge of cruelty , of its bleakness and philosophy , it is as good as ever to hear nicki's voice . lestat knows no other like it , lilting and charming and softly offered even now .

he allows the near corpse to drop , hears what remains of the blood , rich with wine and fear , above the rattle of the bones and heaviness of the muscle ; the man has enough strength to moan , but not to open his eyes . he wonders if that will persuade nicki : they do not look at you , not if you don't let them . not if you're quick about it .

" it is a necessity . " there is still blood on his tongue , which has always been clumsy where nicolas is concerned . it dribbles down his chin and he is quick to bring his hand to cover and wipe at it , horribly shamefaced . his eyes feel hot and wet , and that is enough to send a flash of irritation , lightning quick , through his chest and across his brow . " we do what we must , as we always have . "

[wolfkilermoved]

@stlispenard ( NICKI ) sent : ❛  04 .  a  kiss  to  apologize .

he had not expected to see nicki so soon . not this night , with the echoes of carelessness and bleak , bitter fury still ringing so strongly in his ears . lestat is quick to spring to his feet at the sight of him framed so beautifully by the door , their shared bed an unhappy mess behind him , the coverlets rumpled and stained with the greasepaint he had rubbed at furiously with his fingers until his face ached . the tears , as always , had done their own work .

lips part as his heart beats furiously against the cage of his ribs . he cannot stop the roam of his gaze , nor the way his mind jumps to say countless things at once : explanation or demand , scorn or plea .

the press of nicki's lips to his own quiets all of it . his hands are quick to move with care , pressing with reverence against the curves of nicki's waist — anchoring them both together as joy leaps against his throat . the kiss is shocking and sweet , tinged with wine and apology . lestat never wants it to end .

[wolfkilermoved]

@stlispenard sent : ❛  28 .   a  kiss  over  a  scar

he feels lightheaded , boneless and breathless as he sags into nicki's side . the excitement of the day is all at once coming to a close , leaving a sated weariness in its wake . the theater , small and poor as it is , still sits in his mind as something far beyond the realm of possibility , but it is theirs . . . in a way .

lestat hums , and perhaps it would turn into something akin to the beautiful music nicki had produced today that had brought tears to the eyes of all who heard if it weren't for nicki's mouth suddenly so near his own . he stills , revelling in the feeling of those lips , warm and dry , against that small sunken stretch of skin and debates offering kisses of his own before he sighs : a soft , quiet sound . pleased , as fingers seek the exposed strip of skin of the other's hip . " did you enjoy today ? "

[roseguided]

𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐈𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 felt as if she had a family. a home, people who would care about her forever. yet, somewhere the dynamics & feelings had shifted themselves downward--away from love, from being adored, into something more blackened, hard like a scratch in the throat. maybe it's when she stopped being a little girl, when she mentally surpassed her age & began to question. rebel. assert herself in a way that was more of an equal than a child to be given gifts, dresses, or affection that sustained her.

@stlispenard said, " I WONDER IF IT EVEN MAKES A DIFFERENCE TO TRY. "

claudia keeps her distance, keeps her expression passive for the moment. ears listen to lestat speak & she hardly lets herself believe what he says is genuine. ❛ we try for louis. ❜ spoken in a firmer tone than the one she regarded him with years prior. ❛ we endure one another for louis, nothin' else. he deserves as much. ❜ after how you hurt him, nearly killed him, claudia thinks knowing lestat can't hear her. eyes lower themselves, young woman taking a deep breath: ❛ i'd like t'think there was-a time when you loved me, lestat, ❜ lestat, no longer uncle les. or father. ❛ but, i don't think that's true anymore. ❜

[masteredinstinct]

he follows lestat's lead and downs the rest of his drink , hissing as he sets the glass back down . the whiskey was meant to warm his belly up after that walk in the rain but , this time , it burns . so much so that it helps him ignore the smirk on lestat's lips ( like the cat that ate the fucking canary ) . before louis gets a chance to recover , there's more whiskey on the table . probably better this way ; if he continues to drown himself in alcohol perhaps his thoughts will become muddled abstract things , no longer prisoners to lestat de lioncourt's gravitational pull .

and , as if on queue , the other man tips his head back , contemplating the room's ceilings , exposing his pale neck to the dim lights . louis glances at him and feigns indifference perfectly --- but he cannot help but wonder what goes through the blond's head , sitting there beside him , buying louis drinks , calling him all of these pet names ... is he fond of him ? certainly not to the extent louis du lac is fond of the blond , but still ; to have a friend as close as he , one who has seen him shed tears at the opera and listened to him pour his heart out over his family , his fears , his dreams --- was that too not a form of love ? it was certainly not the romance he envisioned when left alone in his chambers ( louis quickly took a gulp from his drink , hoping it'd wash away the sinful memories from his mind ) but still --- to be known , TO BE SEEN ... some men would never know such joy but louis did ! and to have lestat de lioncourt as his unlikely saviour was a greater blessing than louis should have ever been given .

lestat comments on the temperature and louis scoffs . he's about to suggest that he should stop downing his whiskey like water but stops in his tracks ; the frenchman is undoing his shirt with the same nonchalance he had stripped naked whilst window shopping with louis . were these the european sensibilities all those well-travelled men spoke of ? or did lestat know just how beautiful he looked to the rest of the world ? brown eyes struggle to pull away from the exposed skin but still , they do . louis stares straight ahead now . anyone else might have thought he had set his eyes on the pretty redhead waltzing across the other side of the room ... but his peripherals are painfully aware of lestat's presence .

the ice clinks against the walls of his glass . and before he knows it , louis is speaking again . " you should take that vest off . " his brow is knitted but he does not glance at lestat after offering his helpful suggestion . instead louis busies himself with another sip from his drink . it's an innocent solution to a mundane problem ... why should he hesitate ? he shouldn't . dark eyes shift to meet lestat's and though louis' stare is steady , he feels as if he holds his friend's gaze for far too long .

      it feels like a stalemate. louis moving his pawns in a way that makes it abundantly clear that there are limits to what they can discuss. it is far from second nature for him to yield and yet he seemingly has by offering his apology.  “and to you, louis,” lestat raises the glass to his mouth another time with a smug, self-satisfied smile on his lips, “saintly and forgiving.” he empties the thing and ignores the wretched feeling that passes through his body. a shiver runs cold down his back: what a fool you are, lestat, to be in love and playing by his rules.

      lestat signals for another round to be brought to them. money is no issue and he has half a mind to bribe every person in the room to leave: empty the establishment and give louis a chance to act on the impulse. HIS GAME, HIS RULES. in lestat’s mind their roles are reversed and louis is the one leaping at him with a kiss. he nearly chokes thinking of what he might taste like - if the alcohol has become sweet on his breath or if he can taste the freshness of this evening’s rain. would he be wearing that same cocky smile? lestat leans further back into his chair, tips back his head and stares up at the ceiling for a bit. it seems perhaps like a nonchalant gesture, but it is far from it. he is trying and failing to get the images to leave his mind. 

      “it’s quite warm” he comments, eventually, while a hand comes up to fumble with the first couple of buttons on his shirt. to hell with propriety, he thinks,shame does not have a place at a whorehouse like the fair play and louis should learn as much. it’s all too tempting for him to seek out louis’ eyes and make sure that he is looking, but he doesn’t. instead, he undoes the buttons like HIS FRIEND is supposed to think nothing of it as he exposes parts of his chest - just a natural occurrence.  

[masteredinstinct]

it's a trick of a light , surely , but , when louis leans in , lestat's eyes appear to be quite black . he thinks he sees his friend restraining not to shout back , not to take a swing at him , the usual behaviours which fights over women usually awaken within men --- and yet , louis imagines it's not a bark the other man attempts to hold back but a kiss . a shameful thing to think , but in the privacy of his twisted mind , louis can indulge himself in being deceitful and ungodly . lestat mentions miss lily and it feels like a bucket of cold water ; of course, OF COURSE ! that was the object of desire of this tale . louis was jealous of lestat and of lestat alone --- why did he feel the need to keep reminding himself of such obvious concepts ?

when lestat laughs , it does not sound genuine , but it does sound beautiful . MERCY , gifted to him by the frenchman's lips ... he would not pry or try to expose louis' true nature . it was a sham they both were contributing into , but at least they remained equal under this guise . nothing needed to change ... this , louis thought , was good enough . his expression softened . "you're forgiven ." louis reassured with a small smile . he recalled reading a passage about forgiveness in a little black book --- about it being an unconscious affair which one cannot choose to do ... it merely happens . he tried to remember the writer or , at the very least , the title , but all louis could really remember was how the author had compared forgiving to falling in love.

louis nearly cringed at that . pathetic . wretched . sick .

"but if you still feel like you got some repentin' to do and that repentin' means me not havin' to pay for damn fine whiskey , hell , who am i to stop you?" he quickly said with a shrug , grabbing his whiskey with a cocky smirk . humour would heal his shame . and if it didn't , a copious amount of alcohol would surely help . louis held his glass up between them , proposing a toast . " to new beginnings . "

there is a thrill unearthed whenever some new side of louis emerges. like when his laughs are cut short and all the bricks that make up his walls are stacked back up high. every time it becomes more unsteady. it is exactly what lestat expects and it excites him to provoke it. the adrenaline makes him feel remarkably alive, his heart palpitating in new incomprehensible ways. he finds it difficult not to stir. louis threatens to come closer and lestat fears he stares back at him with eyes that are wide-blown and black from appetency. lestat folds his fingers and presses his nails into the skin of his palms to keep himself from reaching out.

     what he musters is not composure but something that vaguely resembles it. composure in that HE HAS NOT YET latched right onto louis’ throat but is still just sitting tensely on the edge of his seat. “i am competitive, what can i say? but, in my own defense, i was not aware of your particular attachment to the girl before the matter. i insist it was not as calculated as you make it out to be.” there is a lie in there somewhere. he does try his best to sound sincere, the way comrades do while LYING through their teeth.

     lestat looks at the contents of his glass and swirls it around a little before having a reluctant taste. the effect is sobering. he keeps his eyes lowered while louis continues to talk right up until his talking becomes a staggering plea. he lets a bit of silence persist between them, once again weighing how far he can push it now. he is all too tempted to call his bluff again and insist that miss lily is nothing but a costume he wears. it sits on the tip of his tongue, but he swallows it along with the unpalatable whiskey. 

     eventually he swaps his words for laughter. it feels abrupt and disingenuous even to him. “monsieur, you are  sharper than any other man i have ever met - of course there’s is no need for me to tell you how you feel about our dear woman. i spoke out of turn, forgive me.” lestat nods his head towards louis’ glass in the next instant, “i’ll happily buy you another once you’re through, in fact, i’ll buy you another ten rounds if it means you can forget this moment and we can continue our pleasant - although wet - evening.”

[masteredinstinct]

the laugh which spills from lestat's lips is far from warm ; it startles him . how strange to find the other man responding to what louis thought to be an obvious declaration of affection , with such bitterness . but his anger does not take the bait . lestat laughs because he is hurt . he laughs because he does not want this meeting to end . and neither does louis . but it helps that his hand is pulled away by lestat's own --- he would have never had had the strength to do it by himself . louis swallows down any urges lingering right beneath the skin ... this night cannot unravel as both of them wish it would . IT WON'T . lestat says something about not wanting to respect louis' wishes because of the way he looks at him and he cannot help but scoff , half-amused , half-defeated : NEITHER DO I .

the corners of his lips curl at that last warning . once again his paramour is looking for a thread to tug at , hoping some part of him will unravel and change both their fates . but the more louis looks at lestat , the more he thinks of all the ways he hurt him for not knowing what to want --- who to be . his now abandoned hand feels exceptionally cold . louis hides it back in his coat's pocket . "it is now." he replies with a small tilt of his head . this was an open invitation ; a game of tag across continents and timezones between the two of them that they were unwilling , or simply fearful , to commit to . but louis tugged at that thread too --- and he foolishly hoped some day , something would come out of it .

he lingers there for a moment , watching lestat in silence , drinking in his beauty even when camouflaged by the extravagance of his stage persona . his legs felt heavier than ever before . but still , louis gives a small step back and does his best to smile . "thanks for walking me to the hotel ." despite the curve on his lips , his voice lacks the nonchalance louis had intended to communicate . this isn't a goodbye , he reminded himself , even if he does not follow you , you know you'll find a way back to him . louis flutters his lashes . he forced a shaky exhale to leave his lips after realising he had just been standing there , holding his breath while trying to memorise how lestat looked that evening . his feet managed another step towards the main entrance of the building . "i'll see you around ."

      it’s only when louis bows his head that he realizes the real blow of his words. BLAME - an insinuation rolling haphazardly off his own tongue. none of it is premeditated - he would probably not have noticed if not for that one minuscule look away. by the time it hits him, louis is already saying something different and lestat can’t think of a way to stop him. you are too complicated sounds so similar to he’s a lot, you’re a lot. he knows the sting of it. brows knit together in a frown, lips pausing in a way that makes it look like he’s restraining something - another erratic outburst, crying or laughing. how can he be sure?

      there louis is going on about saying goodbye while still holding onto him. he thinks about standing still, thinks about saying nothing, just to see if it continues then. he wonders how long he has before he says another wrong thing that’ll make this go away. clashingly, louis says what he expects him to and, it being nothing like what he wants to hear, he wants to grab him and shake him. if begging ever worked with him, he’d beg for his love or just another kiss: another kiss to send him deeper into his pit of confusion. the time for that seems to also have passed. 

      he mimics louis’ sad smiles but he knows he's staring a strangely blank expression. staring and following the movement of louis’ eyes as they drift over his face. asking to be kissed while saying something else entirely. 

      again, it takes him way too long register what he's saying. he hears it and thinks perhaps it should make him angry that louis thinks the tour matters more than this. it’s infuriating to know that he thinks of him with other people and so readily ignores the fact that all he wants is a single ounce of affection from him. him, him, him, always him. he is being sweet but it feels like another knife to his throat. 

       he ends up laughing so bitterly. at least he knows that will wipe the sadness of louis’ face and anything to him is better than that. “i will do anything you want me to do.” he’ll feed off every groupie and become high of their ecstasy on every continent, in every city, so that eventually it will kill his loneliness and how homesick for louis he feels. he touches the hand by his neck and then carefully shoves it away. “you are probably right. we can’t be trusted to respect each others wishes, even if we wanted to. i just really don’t want to when you’re looking at me like that. perhaps i will find you, but i don’t think that’s up to me, louis.”