emjan3's Journal

Not Again
“Lestat, stop asking.” Louis glared angrily at the stone walls of the castle, anywhere that wasn’t Lestat’s pleading eyes. Their trip to Europe wasn’t exactly going as planned.

   “Claudia’s out, the servants are gone, and the night is young! Please, love, please?” Lestat stuck out his lower lip and widened his enticing, stormy eyes.

   “Stop it, I said!” Louis growled, pushing him away.

   Lestat grinned wickedly and beckoned him with a finger. “Come on, Louis. All that formality of the mortal world, it doesn’t matter anymore. We’re dead now, but we’ve really never been more alive. Think about, think about your new strength, your stamina…” Lestat was almost drooling at the possibilities. Louis looked a little green around the edges.

   “Why do I get the odd one, why me?” he muttered, trying to avoid staring at those shining blonde curls. That curved nose, those round lips…

“Okay then, I accept,” he spat dryly, glowering at the beautiful vampire.

   “Perfect!” Lestat chimed, grabbing Louis’ hand and almost dragging him into their bedroom. Louis sighed and followed Lestat, closing the door behind them. He vowed never again to let Lestat lure him like that, even if he was starting to enjoy it.

OoOoO

Louis watched from across the room and cringed. Lestat’s violent games not only scared him but were oddly disturbing. He sighed. It wasn’t that his morals had suddenly reappeared as a vampire. It was just that he’d been too drunk as a mortal to think about whether killing was wrong or right.

   “It was a death wish, not some obscure pining for immortality,” he grumbled, knowing that it was useless to think back on his decision. He’d already come to the conclusion as a mortal that he was too weak to commit suicide, so there was no way he’d have the courage to step into the sun as a vampire. “Damn you, Lestat,” he cursed for the tenth time that night. When would he get tired of complaining? He wasn’t sure, but he had all eternity to figure it out.

   Lestat had sat down on the ground in defeat, the body of a young man draped fluidly across his lap. Some strange passion began to rise from somewhere inside Louis, and he quickly strode across the room, anger rising in his throat.

   “Throw that thing away or I will!” Louis shouted, glancing at the near-dead human curled up on the ground, head in Lestat’s lap.

   “But Louis, he’s so beautiful…” Lestat stroked the man’s hair, his eyes shining. He knew perfectly well what he was doing to Louis. Damned brat prince. Louis merely feigned indifference.

   “Do what you will, then, I’m going back,” Louis spat, and turned to go, but Lestat wasn’t moving. Louis spun back around and put his hands on his hips. “Lestat, let’s go.”

   “See? You need me,” Lestat taunted, throwing the mortal aside and standing up. He was bored of this game anyway. Louis always did end up such a bore. He needed some excitement, and he knew just where to get it. “Let’s go,” Lestat demanded, leaving the room in stride. Louis dejectedly followed Lestat from the abandoned building, wondering where they were going. Lestat had set off in the opposite direction from their villa, and he knew that meant something was going on.

   “Lestat? Where are we going?”

   “You’ll see, come on.” Louis had no choice but to follow.

   Wrong, he told himself, you do have a choice. But of course, he didn’t dare leave Lestat’s side.

   The moon was almost full that night, and the two vampires hurried to make the most of it before it was over. One, however, still lagged behind.

   “Lestat, I don’t see the point-–”

   “Quiet!” he hissed, slowing to a walk. “Look over there.”

   Outside of a house, a woman stood on the steps, downing a bottle of something dark. She wore a simple green dress and worn boots.
“Her name is Lucinda,” Lestat whispered. “Now, if I told you she had just murdered her lover, would you have a bite?”

Louis looked torn for a second, and then shook his head. “No, not even then.”

Lestat sighed dramatically and grabbed Louis’s arm. “Come, let’s kill her.” The woman had gone back into the house by then, and Lestat boldly led the way to the front door. He opened it just wide enough so that they could slip through, unnoticed, and they were inside. They tiptoed up the stairs and came across Lucinda in the hallway.

Louis watched from the shadows as the woman turned around. She tried to scream, but no sound came out. Fear showed in her bulging eyes as her fingers clutched at the air. Lestat moved behind her, holding her arms stiff so that she couldn’t move, and whispered something to her. She began to cry silently, and to shake even in Lestat’s tight grasp.

“I… it… but…” she mumbled incoherently, sobbing.

“They always stutter,” Lestat said, grinning at her wickedly, showing his fangs. Before she could scream again he was on her, and for a surprise, was being rather gentle. She sighed and fainted on his shoulder, not from blood loss, but from fear. Lestat lifted her and shoved her in Louis’ direction.

“Here, you finish her.” Louis shook his head, stepping back.

“My god, Louis, can you just take her already? She’s getting heavy,” Lestat thrust the body in Louis’ direction and turned to leave. Louis scrambled to grab her and watched Lestat moving away from him.

“Lestat, wait.” Louis let go of Lucinda and she fell to the floor with a sickening thump.

“Well, she’s dead now,” Lestat muttered shaking his head. “A complete waste of perfectly good blood, Louis. That’s what you are, inconsiderate.”

“Me? Inconsiderate?” Louis laughed bitterly. “Who are you to call me inconsiderate?”

“The honorable Lestat de Lioncourt, of course,” Lestat said. He smirked and left Louis standing at the top of the stairs, looking bewildered and only a little angry. “I’ll be waiting,” he added from the bottom of the staircase before stepping out the door and slamming it behind him. Something in the sound of his voice reminded Louis of the times when the blonde vampire played with his food before eating it, and Louis never much cared for that side of Lestat.

“Here we go again,” Louis muttered darkly, trudging home. It had begun to rain and the water cooled his temper, made his thoughts serene. And yet, he still couldn’t get that damned Lestat out of his head.

OoOoO

   “I still don’t–”

   “Louis? Shut up.” Lestat hurried to undo the buttons of Louis’ shirt. Too-… many… layers… Lestat said to himself, struggling to get his own clothes off.

   “But what if–” Louis began. Lestat put a finger to his mouth and gave him the death glare. Louis sighed and barely had time to pull off his shirt before Lestat pounced on him. They fell onto the four-poster bed, Lestat grinning. Louis’s mind flashed through previous encounters and finally landed on the first time he’d even considered sex with Lestat.

It had only been a few years ago, after Lestat had rescued him from the rat-infested sewers. They had come home together, dripping wet, and both had stripped off their clothes and gotten under the warm covers. They had always slept in the same bed, window shades drawn tight, just not usually naked. Louis had woken up that night to Lestat stroking his hair. At first, they’d argued a little, but then Lestat had kissed him and he had understood. He had understood what it was Lestat wanted, and Lestat always got what he wanted.
Lestat was nibbling at Louis’ nipples with the tips of his fangs and Louis let out a tiny moan. Lestat moved up to his neck and bit it gently.

“Ow,” Louis said. He didn’t mean it, he just couldn’t comprehend the feelings squirming inside him. The closest he could come to what those feelings were was fear, and so he let out a small whimper.

“That doesn’t hurt,” Lestat reminded him, running a finger down his chest, moving closer and closer to that place between his legs that Louis so needed caressed. Louis’s back arced and he shut his eyes. Never in all his mortal life would he have considered what Lestat had shown him in the many times since their first night, but this was something different. “I’ll tell you when it should hurt.” Lestat leaned down and touched his lips to Louis’, letting them linger, before drawing back and smiling. Then Lestat moved down Louis’s chest, placing kisses closer and closer, but then stopped.

“So, Louis.” Gently, confidently, Lestat wrapped a hand around Louis’s dick. “What do you think this time?” Louis whimpered in response, and Lestat nodded with a small smile of triumph. Lestat guided himself into Louis and rocked back and forth. It was painfully slow, and Louis shut his eyes tighter. “Stop fighting it and maybe you’d actually enjoy it,” Lestat said, reaching one hand up to rub Louis’ chest.

“I will always fight you,” Louis managed to choke out. Lestat stopped abruptly and looked hurt. Louis’ body spasmed as he waited for Lestat to continue, but he did not.

“Why?” Lestat pleaded for an answer that Louis couldn’t provide. Louis drew away from Lestat, the pain coming then, and drew the blankets over his head.

“I don’t know, Lestat. I don’t know.” Lestat stared at him for a while before giving up and settling into his side of the bed. The space between them was painful as they fell into their daytime sleep, the two vampires at opposite ends of the bed. And as Louis struggled to keep himself awake, he cried red tears, sobs wracking his body. Lestat felt the bed shaking, and moved towards Louis, wishing even now to wrap his arms around him. Louis didn’t resist as Lestat drew closer, putting an arm around his waist protectively, and so Lestat moved even closer, closing the distance between them. They feel asleep like that, bodies fitting together, dreaming of blood, and lust, and each other.

OoOoO

   “I’ll tell you a secret,” Claudia whispered mischievously to the half-asleep Louis.

   “What is it?” Louis said half-heartedly, lying on the couch, tracing the patterns on the wall with his fingers.

   “I know about you and Lestat.” Louis sat up.

   “What are you talking about, Claudia? Can you be more specific?” Claudia merely smirked and began humming the new concerto she was learning. She got up from the couch and danced in circles around the room, humming her pretty tune.

   “I want to go somewhere, Louis. Don’t worry, you can bring Lestat.” She smiled. “And we can go somewhere fancy, like a ball. Or maybe somewhere better.” She put on her thoughtful face, gazing up absentmindedly at the ceiling. Then her eyes lit up. “We could visit the English countryside!” she exclaimed, falling to the carpet in a mock faint.

   “Well, it might be nice to travel…” Louis started.

   “A vacation? Magnificent!” It was Lestat standing in the doorway, gazing at him hungrily.

   “I’m not sure–”

   “Claudia, go pack your things, darling. We’re leaving tomorrow morning.” For a moment, Claudia only stared open-mouthed at him. Then she smiled and skipped off to her room. Lestat turned to Louis.

   “See, Louis? Claudia loves the idea of a vacation. God knows she needs one, and it’ll be such fun… for all of us.” Lestat grinned wickedly, leaned back against the doorframe, and continued to stare at Louis with that hungry look on his face.

   “I’m sure it won’t be any fun at all,” Louis mumbled, but Lestat didn’t seem to hear.

   “We can settle down a bit,” Lestat went on, speaking as if Louis hadn’t said anything. “Live in secret, stroll through the wilderness at night–”

   Suddenly Claudia burst into the room. “Oh Louis, just think! There will be the open fields for miles, and lots of people around to kill, and no one will even notice they’re gone! Oh Louis, a vacation!”

   Lestat turned to Louis triumphantly and strode out of the room. Louis glared at his very handsome backside and decided that a long vacation was the least of his worries.

OoOoO

   A vacation. In the countryside.

   They went by car, by night, and stopped at a house they particularly enjoyed.

   There was an old man and his only daughter living there, who were quickly dispatched, and then the grounds were theirs to walk upon freely. Louis could only imagine the beauty of the gardens during the sunlit hours, and mourned his mortality anew. There were sheep in the pastures, and Claudia began to tend to them at night, moving them from one field to the next after they’d chewed the grass almost to the roots.

   Lestat was always out finding beautiful whores at the tavern and bringing them back to the house. The scene was almost the same every time:

   “Didn’t le marquis live here?”

   “Ah, yes, but he died a tragic death. Killed by his own daughter.”

   “How horrible!”

   “Very. We’re watching the house until the government decides what they’re going to do with it.”

   “Oh, that’s so kind of you.”

   “But you have it all wrong, dearest. I’m not kind at all.”

   “What– oh!”

   They all died the same way; their pale necks, exposed by their scant clothing, pierced by his two glistening fangs, the two holes trickling dark, brackish blood once he had slowed her breathing to a mere flutter. Then he went to bury her, each in a separate, unmarked grave. Claudia then came behind him and planted a vegetable garden on this same land.

   Louis enjoyed taking long walks through the endless fields and dense woods. Occasionally, Lestat would come with him, and they’d talk philosophy, though if the conversation ever strayed to vampires, Lestat would stop speaking to him.

   One night, they heard the howling of a wolf pack. Louis could have sworn the last of them had been slaughtered in England, and by Lestat’s face, he had thought so too.

   “It’s them!” he hissed, his eyes wild, crazy. The emotion made him look almost human. “Louis, go!” They treaded carefully through the dense undergrowth of the forest, Lestat glancing over their shoulders now and then as if he expected the wolves to be following them home. They emerged onto a dark field, and found Claudia stroking a new born lamb.

   “Claudia, come inside,” Lestat snarled, waiting for her to follow. “It’s not safe.”

   Claudia giggled. “We are killers, Lestat, the only ones around for miles! What’s got you so worked up?”

   “The wolves are coming, dammit!” He growled, grabbing her wrist and roughly pulling her away.

   “But Lestat!” Claudia whined, her eyes fixed on the lamb.

   “Run!” he shouted, dragging her with him. As they ran across the darkened field, Louis followed half-heartedly, gazing back at the forest and not seeing any wolves.

   “Louis, come on!” Lestat screamed, shoving Claudia through the back door and holding out a hand for Louis to grasp. Louis took it, and was pulled inside just as Lestat bolted the door behind them.

   “Lestat, we never actually saw any wolves–”

   “I heard them. They’ve come back for me, Louis.”

   He was at it again, always with the wolves, or Nikki, or something from his mortal life that came back to haunt him. Louis, however, had little recollection of any of his mortal life, and couldn’t understand Lestat’s breakdowns. When Lestat got like this, it was best to ignore him.

   “We’re safe in here, Lestat. Let’s go to bed.”

   “Yes, safe.” Lestat’s eyes scanned the grounds through the foggy window one last time before turning to Claudia. “Go to bed, Claudia.” She glared at him, but swirled around and stomped up the stairs anyway.

   “Tomorrow night, we hunt!” Lestat shouted up the stairs at her, and turned to Louis. “Tonight, however, is reserved for us.” Louis sighed and followed Lestat to their room.

   To make life easier, they’d all brought their coffins instead of relying on curtains to protect them. Lestat waited until Louis was lying in his coffin, and then crawled in on top of him and shut the lid. They were in complete darkness, their vision still adjusting to the total black.

   “Lestat, we haven’t shared a coffin since–”

   “Since I created you? Correct. Now, kiss me.”

   “But–” Louis was cut off by Lestat’s lips closing over his own, and when Lestat’s tongue began sliding across them, Louis parted them and flicked his own tongue into Lestat’s mouth. Lestat traced Louis’s fangs with his tongue and Louis moaned. Lestat scraped his tongue across Louis’s sharp teeth until he drew immortal blood, which Louis sucked at hungrily. They didn’t need to breathe, and so there was no need to break the kiss. They could be locked together the entire night and it wouldn’t matter. The thought made Louis’s dead heart shudder.

   Lestat did break the kiss eventually, however, grinning in the dark.

   “I love you, Louis.”

   “Good thing the wolves didn’t get me, then,” Louis muttered, and Lestat smothered him in another kiss.

OoOoO

   Lestat had never been afraid of wolves as a mortal, but things change, especially when you die and then still seem to be so alive.
Lestat had tired of the country so quickly, and they were back amidst the night crowds of London in no time at all. Lestat had set up an elaborate plan where he was going to turn a favorite boy of his into a vampire. Lestat did always seem to have young boys he followed around, the ones who idolized him and did whatever he asked of them, and Louis despised all of them.

“You’re just jealous,” Lestat would always tell him, but these words only infuriated Louis further.

Lestat had been talking about the boy for weeks, but now he was finally bringing him to meet Louis and Claudia. Lestat had insited on everything being perfect. He hired a maid to come and clean the house a night before, and had layed out the clothes he wanted Louis and Claudia to wear.

“Oh yes, and he’ll need food, I suppose. Louis, can you go out and bring back something nice for him to eat? And can you lay it out on the table?” Before Louis could respond, Lestat had gone from the room.

Louis stewed angrily over the coming rendezvous as he picked out food from the only market in town open so late. He wasn’t really sure how to make meals anymore, so he picked out a loaf of bread from the previous morning, some french cheese he used to get as a mortal, a bottle of red wine that the seller assured him was fine quality, and a few bruised apples. That seemed like a good enough meal, especially so late and for such an unwanted guest. Louis tried to picture the boy in his mind. Long brown hair, maybe? And deep, expressive brown eyes, Lestat always went for those. He had to be intelligent, too, outgoing, quick-witted, and bitter towards the world.

The cobblestones pattered under his boots as he carried the shopping home. That night, the sky was clear, and the stars were all visible, twinkling brightly in the darkness. Louis had never appreciated the stars quite like he did that night. He definitely did not want to return to their flat and have some strange brat be there, bitching about life as a mortal and begging Lestat for his blood. Louis shuddered, remembering Lestat’s temper, and looked up at the stars again as if seeking divine assistance, but none came, of course. Louis had learned long ago that even if there was a God, He rarely helped mortals, and wouldn’t dare help a vampire.

“It’s not like I signed a contract with the devil,” Louis muttered to himself, glaring at the stones under his feet, trying to look through them, trying to see hell. “Surely, if there is a devil, there is God. My existence is proof that there is a devil, and so there must be some sort of high being. But what of heaven and hell? How do we prove the reality of those?” He was talking to himself like a madman, but who else to talk to? Lestat was all about pleasure, about making the best of their situation, and reevaluating the standards of his senses. Louis wasn’t like that at all. Louis craved knowledge, such as the beginning of the vampires, how the first of their kind was born. Lestat always refused to speak of these things with him, and Louis began to assume that he didn’t know any answers, but also that Lestat didn’t wish to know.

Louis got back to their home all too soon. He ascended the long, twisted flight of stairs slowly, dreading the reception that awaited him. At the top, the door creaked open, and he found the front room to be empty.

“Lestat?” Louis called warily, green eyes darting around the room.

“In here,” Lestat said hurriedly, and Louis sighed and followed the voice into the dining room. He froze at the entrance and his eyes widened.

“Mon dieu,” he whispered, unable to restrain his astonishment. Yes, the boy was beautiful. Curly, black hair that fell to his shoulders, puckered pink lips, lightly tanned skin. What shocked Louis the most were the boy’s bright green eyes, so similar to his own. Since the boy’s sleeves were rolled up, Louis saw the bites that covered the boy’s arms, and the few up around his neck.

“Louis, this is Thomas,” Lestat said dreamily, and Louis felt pressure in his chest and heat on his face.

Thomas’s eyes shone and his perfect lips curled up into a smile. “Very pleased to meet you, sir. Monsieur Lestat has told me everything about you, sir.” The boy stuck out a hand, and Louis took it.

He really is so perfect, Louis thought as he smiled back at the child. I understand now why Lestat ranted and raved about him. Louis couldn’t help but feel a small bit of affection for the boy. And Lestat telling the boy all about him? Louis would have to ask Lestat about that later.

“Nice meeting you, Thomas,” Louis said softly, and set the food on the table, guilt creeping into his chest.

“Louis’s bought some nice things for you to eat,” Lestat explained, pulling the bottle of wine out of the bag. Lestat nodded at the label, and dove into the bag for the other things. “Ah, lovely bread,” Lestat sneered, pulling out the stale loaf, but the boy didn’t seem to notice at all. “The cheese is not bad. But Louis, really, these apples, couldn’t you–”

“It’s all right, sir,” Thomas said gently, giving Louis a kind glance. “I don’t mind.”

Lestat beamed. “Brilliant, I don’t have to punish Louis, then.” Louis winced, knowing that Lestat was lying to Thomas. Lestat would punish Louis if he wanted to punish Louis, and that was all there was to it. “Thomas, come here.”

The boy obediantly rose from the chair and stood in front of Lestat, looking up at him expectantly. “Louis! Pour Thomas a glass of wine. A glass for me too, empty,” he added, and Louis’s eyes widened in horror but he complied. Claudia sat in a nearby chair, watching the show with a tiny smirk on her pretty face. Louis envied her. Uncorking the bottle, Louis watched the red liquid flow into the glass and remembered when he used to drink wine. He tried to recall the taste of fermented grapes, but the only taste he could remember was the iron taste of blood, the only taste he craved anymore.

Handing a glass of the red wine to the boy, who took it with a slight bow, Louis then casually handed Lestat an empty glass.

“Thomas, come sit on the sofa with me,” Lestat said sharply, and the boy followed close behind the blond vampire. “Louis, come stand nearby,” Lestat called from the front room, and with a sigh, Louis went to join them.

“First, drink your wine, Thomas,” Lestat said pleasantly, “it will help.” The boy downed it in one gulp, and Lestat took his glass from him and set it on the side table. “Now, let me open a wound.” Though the color went from the boy’s face, he nodded, and Lestat smiled. “Don’t worry, ma chérie, it only hurts if I make it hurt. Remember that.” The boy nodded again, and Lestat picked up one of Thomas’s arms and turned it so that the wrist was pointed at the ceiling. Slowly, Lestat leaned close, and then quickly sunk his teeth into the boy’s arm. Thomas screamed soundlessly, shut his eyes, and threw his head back in pain. Lestat drew back from the wrist, turned it upsidedown, and let Thomas’s blood flow into the glass while the boy squirmed in pain, real tears falling down his pitiful face. Even then, he looked beautiful to Louis, who could not seem to tear his eyes from the scene, however much his disgustion threatened to overwhelm him.

When Lestat’s glass was full, he downed it just as the boy had, and grinned with reddened teeth. “Now,” he rasped, his voice husky from the blood, “lie down.” Thomas complied, glad to sink into the soft fabrics of the couch, to relax and to completely submit himself to the vampire. Lestat pinned the boy down with one hand on his right shoulder and latched himself to the boy’s neck. Thomas whimpered a little at the bite, but sighed as Lestat continued to draw blood. Louis watched, still fascinated and appalled by the scene, as Lestat drained the boy almost to death. Almost. Just as the boy began to struggle, trying to hold onto his life, Lestat drew away and bit into his own wrist.

“Drink, Thomas. Now.” Lestat sounded urgent as he pressed the newly opened wound to the boy’s lips, and Louis wondered about Thomas’s safety. Could Lestat have taken too much blood? Or was the boy not strong enough to make the change?

“No,” Lestat whispered, searching the boy’s eyes for a sign of life. Even as the vampiric blood dripped past those crimson lips, Lestat could see that the boy was losing the fight, that his body was giving up. “Don’t go, Thomas,” Lestat whimpered, and Louis cringed at the emotion in the vampire’s usually passive voice. Oh Lestat, Louis thought, do you really love these mortals, or do you love their blood? Lestat was sobbing pale pink tears over the boy’s dead body, clutching him as Claudia clutches her dolls, and Louis knew what was coming next. Lestat had a very consistent pattern to his emotional variations. First, there was passion. Lust, even. Dare he say love? Then came the pain, the denial. Next was sadness, and despair. Finally, there was Lestat’s raging temper. Lestat managed his temper through the violent killing of mortals or yelling at Claudia. However, when these failed, he always turned to Louis to take out his anger on. In fact, now, Lestat’s head jerked up from the mortal’s dead body and the raging, stormy eyes locked on to Louis’s green ones, freezing him to that spot. There was no running from Lestat when he was angry.

Lestat got up from the sofa, uncurling his body, standing up straight, and striding directly over to Louis.

“Claudia!” he roared, his eyes not leaving Louis’. “To your coffin!” Even Claudia did not offer any snide remarks as she strode to her coffin to sleep, knowing that Lestat was in a dangerous mood. Lestat gripped Louis’s arm so hard that he winced.

“To the room,” he snarled, “now.”

Lestat never said ‘our room,’ or even ‘my room.’ He just always said ‘the room.’ This always bothered Louis, always struck somewhere in his core.

Lestat threw Louis onto the bed, and before Louis could sit up, had him pinned down.

“Lestat, wait–” Louis started. Lestat slapped him hard across the face and yanked Louis’s pants down to his ankles.

“Quiet,” Lestat hissed, pulling Louis’s shirt up over his head. Louis was completely rid of clothes while Lestat still had all of his, and Lestat glared at his naked body.

“Disgusting. Not worth my anger, really,” Lestat snarled spreading Louis’s legs roughly. Louis, eyes wide in fear, made no movement, said nothing.

“Now, Thomas!” Lestat wailed, unbuckling his pants belt and letting them drop to the floor. “He was something to behold! Beauty unlike any I had ever seen before! Rivaled only by my beloved Nikki!” Lestat was sobbing again as he aligned his half-erect shaft to Louis’s constricted ass. “You will never be good enough for me!” Lestat shoved into Louis without warning, and Louis screamed until his throat was raw but the burning pain in his ass didn’t stop. Louis was crying too now as Lestat drew out and plunged back in, eliciting another ear-splitting shriek from Louis’s throat. Not even during the change had he felt this much pain all at once. “Son of a,” Lestat pushed in further, “bitch!” he drew out. “Mon dieu!” he cried, smashing back into Louis, “I can’t,” he eased back, “take you anymore!” Louis was shaking in pain, his vampire blood dripping from his ass onto the bed sheets below, while Lestat softly cried, finding a rhythm and fucking Louis in that way. He moved faster, and as much as Louis despised himself for doing it, he grabbed his own member and pumped it in time with Lestat’s pounding.

Lestat came inside Louis and pulled out at the same time, a bloody fluid seaping out from inside Louis, who moaned in pain as he came, too. As a vampire, he would heal quickly, but he still felt the agonizing hurt that spread throughout his body.
Now came the part of Lestat’s emotions that Louis loved the most.

Lestat was sobbing on Louis’s chest, the red tears flowing across Louis’s ghostly skin. He was saying something incoherent, mouth pressed up against Louis’s chest, his body now shaking. Louis picked out an “I’m sorry” from Lestat’s speech, and smiled wearily. That was enough for him every time. He stroked Lestat’s curly hair and whispered soothing words into Lestat’s ear until the blond vampire fell asleep. Louis, however, lay awake, his ass still throbbing and still bleeding as he wondered what to do about Lestat.

OoOoO

To Be Continued…