#stlispenard : NICKI.

[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 ? "

[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 . "

[wolfkilermoved]

the sound that escapes him as his back meets damp stone is really no more than a grunt - shock and dismay in equal measure , though the breath that surrounds it . . . delight , perhaps . relief that something that sounds like nicki , moves like him in a way that now only preternatural eyes can track , still exists . it is not often that he can be startled anymore , and the commotion is enough to draw gabrielle's attention away from the final dregs of their meal ; there is another wet thud in the distance , quickly followed by light footsteps moving swiftly across stone . danger , my son .

" everything is alright . " muffled as they are , they are words meant for them both . his dearest ones . lestat's hand is quick to cup at the too cool skin of the back of nicolas' neck . beseeching , at war against the wide blown look of his gaze . " but you should feed from more than what i can provide for you . tu es encore trop jeune . "

the metallic scent of blood hangs in the air like a thick layer of smoke. terrifying urges rage in his body, only spurred on by lestat’s talking. he can feel it take hold of his body and he longs to yell at lestat to stop. do not make me. he, the pitiful creature that he is, cowers and crouches like a dog that’s been beaten, clutching his stomach. 

then he watches as lestat laps blood off his chin as he has seen him do with wine a thousand times and an awful sound escapes him. a filthy bit of that same old longing. he releases his hold of himself and, not knowing his own body, he crawls over the half-dead one and leaps onto lestat instead. nicolas’ mouth goes right by lestat’s ear and his fingers straight onto his lips (oh, that sinful, sinful mouth): “i will not have that man’s blood unless it is that which is already in you.”