Disclaimer: This is a work of non-profit fan fiction. These characters are not my creations, but what wonderful creations they are. Anne owns all the copyrights. You could sue me but you wouldn’t get much.
Characters: Louis and Lestat
Spoilers: None that I can think of.
Warnings: A little m/m kissing and necking and a bit of blood drinking. Nothing too graphic, tho. I know I kinda wimped out on the ending but it’s only my second spec and I wasn’t quite ready for full-on slash. Maybe next time. *g*
Dedicated to all the wonderful writers here who inspire me. I haven’t been commenting but rest assured I’m reading diligently and I’m enjoying everything.
Katia Forrester
March 2000
sorrowsleep@hotmail.com
You’re the fiercest calm
I’ve been in
[Lestat’s POV]
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I was in a foul mood as I returned home to the flat on Rue Royale. It was shaping up to be one of those nights. First had been the phone call from my broker in New York. Apparently it had been a bad day on Wall Street and I was suddenly ten million dollars poorer. Granted, with my vast wealth it was not a huge loss, but losing money is never fun.
Next had been delivery of a chair I’d ordered for the library to replace the one that Mojo had used as a chew toy. The only problem being that the chair they brought was the wrong color. I mean, come on. Orange? Who in their right mind would want orange furniture? No one with taste, that’s for sure. I’m afraid I scared the poor deliveryman with my tirade. But I had to yell at someone and he was convenient. Besides, it could have been worse. I could have made him my dinner.
Then, hoping to improve my mood by doing a little shopping, I’d walked the few blocks to my favorite music store. Not only did they not have the cd I wanted, but I’d caught a glimpse of my own face staring back at me from the clearance section! My cd, that rock and roll masterpiece, relegated to bargain bin status! That was no place for The Vampire Lestat! Shoved in among the likes of KC & The Sunshine Band and Milli Vanilli? It was humiliating! I’d quickly snatched up all the copies I could find and paid for them, mumbling something to the baffled clerk about getting a head start on my Christmas shopping.
To top it all off, I’d been caught in a sudden downpour on the way home. Even traveling at preternatural speed hadn’t been enough to keep me from getting drenched.
So there I stood in the hallway: wet, cold and thoroughly annoyed. As I pushed my dripping hair out of my face, I heard soft footsteps in the parlor. Deciding that I could put off getting dry for a few minutes longer I walked silently to the parlor entryway. I leaned my sodden shoulder against the doorframe and watched my gorgeous fledgling move about the room.
Strange how I never tire of watching Louis do the simplest things. He moves like a dancer, every step graceful and fluent. Every gesture and movement has its own reason and intent. He is pure poetry in motion. I would be content to observe Louis for hours, especially if I could do it undetected. Louis isn’t keen on being stared at, and tends to become stiff and uncomfortable under scrutiny. He really has no comprehension of the effect his beauty has on others. He isn’t attractive in the conventional sense and you certainly won’t find someone with his unusual looks among the cookie-cutter Ken doll models in the fashion magazines. Striking is probably the word that best describes him. He causes people to do double takes, not because they admire his beauty but because they want to understand his beauty. His features beg to be studied. Like a priceless work of art. He is an ethereal creature, plucked from the pages of fantasy. He’d look right at home on the back of a unicorn, I thought. The image made me chuckle slightly, thus blowing my cover completely. Louis glanced up at me from where he was carefully moving things around on his desk.
“Lestat?”
“Hmm?”
“Have you seen yesterday’s newspaper? I didn’t get a chance to finish the crossword puzzle.”
“No, mon cher, I haven’t. Where did you leave it?”
“I thought I left it down here but….” He glanced at me again and stopped. He took in my appearance with one perfectly raised eyebrow.
“Lestat, you’re soaked.”
“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” I said with a smirk.
Louis moved over to the sofa and began to peek under the cushions. “Well don’t just stand there dripping, you’ll ruin the rugs.”
I suddenly thought of a way to cheer myself up after the horrible night I’d been having. Louis wouldn’t be pleased but then that was where the fun lie. I moved stealthily across the room and grabbed him, spinning him around and wrapping him in a tight squeeze, tightly pressing my rain-soaked body against his. The sudden icy wetness made Louis gasp. He struggled to get free, but I only held him tighter.
“Lestat! Let me go, you heathen!”
I answered him by shaking my head, flinging droplets from my saturated hair all over Louis’ face.
“Ugh! Lestat! Mon Dieu, you are freezing!”
I reluctantly loosened my grip on Louis and pulled away, but not before planting a cold wet kiss on his nose. Louis reached up and rubbed the spot where my lips had been and glared.
“You, monsieur, are the most exasperating, irritating, irksome….”
“Charming, gorgeous, irresistible….”
Louis let out a rather undignified snort. I looked him up and down and leered.
“Louis, you’re soaked.”
“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” he mocked.
He looked delectable with his wet shirt clinging to his slender torso, accentuating every curve, the fabric pulled tight against his taut nipples. It was all I could do not to throw him down on the floor and have my way with him then and there.
“If you will excuse me,” he said, “I think I need to go change.”
“Need any help?” I asked suggestively as he headed towards the stairs.
“No!” He turned and pointed a slim finger at me. “You’ve done quite enough, thank you,” he retorted.
Oh how I love to rile him, to watch his eyes flash and his mouth twist with disapproval. Delicious. I was starting to feel better already. Next order of business: getting out of those soggy clothes.
I returned downstairs a half hour later, after indulging in a long, warm shower and dressing casually in faded jeans and a pale blue t-shirt. Louis was back in the parlor, seated on the sofa, newspaper folded neatly on his lap and pen in hand. He was dressed in his usual: everything black from the clip in his hair to the socks on his feet. Sometimes I’m tempted to dye all his clothes pink just to see his reaction. I think Louis would look rather good in pink.
I went to the cabinet that housed the stereo system and contemplated what to listen to. Something soothing for my frayed nerves, I thought. Finally deciding on a Brahms collection, I placed the cd in the player and went to sit next to Louis.
“Found your newspaper, I see.”
He gave a small mumble of agreement and continued to concentrate on his puzzle. I turned sideways facing him, bringing my left leg up under me and resting my arm along the back of the sofa. My hand lay right behind his head and almost without thinking I reached up and undid the clasp holding his hair back, letting it fall loose around his face.
“’Stat.”
“Hush.”
I smoothed the silky strands back away from his face and began to run my fingers through it. Oh how I love his hair. That luxurious waterfall of black satin that slides through my fingers like a gentle rain. I derive such pleasure just from watching the way it catches the light, rather like the way moonbeams reflect off the dark waters of the night-time ocean. Louis would cut it short every night if he had his way, but I prefer it long, the way it was when I first saw him, cascading exquisitely to his shoulders. He keeps it that way to please me, I’m proud to say. Of course if he is angry with me he will cut it, just to spite me. Louis can indulge in childish displays of temper just as well as I can. Though not nearly as often.
As I continued to twirl his hair around my fingers, I could feel myself beginning to relax. Just being here with him made me realize how silly I had been for becoming so irritated by the things that had happened earlier. None of that mattered. It was insignificant. Forgotten in the calming presence of my beloved.
Sliding my hand under his hair, I began to massage his nape. He sighed and closed his eyes and I found myself enraptured by the way his eyelashes caressed the top of his cheeks, like little whispers.
“’Stat…I can’t think when you do that.”
“What do you need to think for, hmm?”
“I’m trying to finish this puzzle.”
“I’ll help. What’s left?”
He opened his eyes and glanced down at the paper.
“A five-letter word for jargon. Second letter is I.”
I thought for a moment while I continued to rub his neck. “Lingo.”
He gave me a somewhat surprised look and then filled in the letters. “I might have figured that out if you’d stop touching me.”
“I like touching you,” I murmured.
I think he almost smiled.
I scooted closer to him and began to nibble on his ear.
“Quit,” he said without much conviction. I ignored him and proceeded to suck on his earlobe.
He cleared his throat. “What’s a uh...a…” More throat clearing. “A six-letter word for…uh…”
“Oh shut up, Louis,” I said as my lips closed over his. I savored the feel of them, so incredibly soft and smooth. I tugged gently on his full bottom lip with my teeth and then ran my tongue along its contours, making him shudder. His mouth opened to me and soon our tongues were moving together in an age-old dance. I slipped my hand underneath his sweater and began to tease his nipple with my thumb. He moaned deep in his throat and arched his back. I sat back and looked at him. So beautiful. Face flushed, emerald eyes alight with passion, lips pink and swollen. He took my breath away.
I took the pen from his hand and the paper from his lap and placed them on the coffee table. Then I laid back on the couch and pulled him on top of me, tangling my hands in his hair and scattering soft kisses over his face. I kissed his delicate eyelids and the pale hollows of his cheeks, his thin regal nose and his perfectly shaped brows. My lips moved over his cool, smooth forehead and finally back to his luscious lips, teasing and biting and tasting every inch of them, eliciting small whimpers of pleasure from him. My mouth traveled lower, biting his chin and then finding its way to the curve of his neck. I inhaled the slight musky scent of him and then placed tiny biting kisses along his jugular. He gasped and pushed himself closer to me. I knew what he wanted, what he was asking for without speaking any words and, of course, I wanted it too. My fangs penetrated his skin and I felt his sweet nectar fill my mouth. It was like ambrosia, this essence of him, and I savored the taste of it on my tongue. I forced myself to take only a small drink, wanting the seduction to last all night, if possible.
He raised his head and looked down at me through half-closed eyes. “Lestat…”
“Oui, mon amour?”
He brought his hand up to caress my face, brushing his thumb across my mouth. “I love you.”
I was stunned. Just when I thought I was the one in control, Louis turns the tables. Three simple words and I was putty in his hands.
“Je t’aime, mon Louis, mon coeur. You are a balm to my soul. Only you can soothe the savage beast in me.”
He smiled and it was like the sun breaking through the clouds. I was overwhelmed by my love for him, my need of him. I wanted him desperately. I wanted to hold him and cover him with kisses and run my hands all over his naked skin. I wanted to feel him squirm and hear him breathlessly whisper my name. I wanted to make him mine completely.
And I always get what I want, my friends.
Always.
Fin
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