#* stlestat .

love from @stlestat

louis is trying to focus on the voice on the other side of the phone. he's trying to speak to a trusted member of his team back in dubai, about a new piece he is in the process of acquiring. he's trying to remain serious --- but it's hard to do so while lestat is hovering over him, looking needy and beautiful as ever. louis sighs and turns his gaze towards the flowery pattern of the bed's duvet.

" --- no, the self-portrait is currently displayed at a private gallery in seattle." he feels lestat's soft blond hair brushing over his thighs. he has pressed his head against his lap. louis does not push him away. "i was hoping to have my team examine the painting before shipment. the commission rate cannot be this high if we have no guarantees regarding ownership."

his mind is trying to spread itself all over the world; part of his responsibilities lay in dubai. his clients wait in seattle. one of his newest investments sits right there in new orleans ... and yet every nerve in his cold undead body drags him back to the hotel room where they had both sat for most of the evening. louis registers every small movement lestat makes. he notices the way the mattress shifts when the other vampire leans closer. he likes the way his soft skin burns against his legs. tries to memorise the ticklish sensation of his fluttering lashes against his flesh.

louis commits the mistake of glancing down at his maker. and having those ethereal eyes looking up at him so lovingly stirs something within him. he wants to touch his face right there and then. wants to make those golden locks spread across the rose patterned duvet, like a halo around lestat's god damn head. but above all else, louis wants to be tender with that man --- wants to handle him so gently, the blond has no choice but to beg.

lestat pressed his lips to louis' thigh. the american sighed frustratedly. "i had planned to be in seattle this evening but there's---" soft lips press another kiss to his thigh, closer to the cotton of his briefs. "a flight delay." louis clarified after clearing his throat. "if they arrive before i do, my people should be allowed full access to the gallery spa-ah!" the noise which escapes his lips is beyond humiliating. jade eyes widen with outrage as he looks back down at lestat. he had sunk his teeth into his inner thigh --- actually bitten him hard enough to draw blood.

louis glares down at the blond, as if this look alone ought to be enough warning. but instead of being sorry or embarrassed, lestat appears to be quite pleased with himself. "i'll have to call you back bashir." to hell with tenderness then.

if back in the day lestat used to catch his attention whenever he waltzed into a room, nowadays he ensnared it like a god damn bear trap. it was near damn impossible not to notice him in this century --- not now that he was free to fully pursue all of his extravagant whims. the gall he had, to walk into the hotel's bar looking the way he did: fresh out of a concert, glitter and make-up still smudged all over his skin, most of his chest exposed to the world ... you'd have to be mad not to stare. the hotel guests certainly did their best to try and be discreet but louis was quite happy to have the blond there.

some part of him would always be happy to see lestat, no matter the state of him. another, uglier, grosser, more embarrassing part of him was happy to know that his maker still felt compelled to come after him. that had been their preferred game as of late, hadn't it? louis would run and lestat would chase him. then lestat would fuck off to god knows where, and louis would follow. back and forth, for over a year and a half now --- louis offered a small smile as the great vampire lestat sat down on the stool next to his. tag, thought louis, you're it.

one long finger gently stroked over the rim of his martini glass as lestat leaned against the bar counter, making himself comfortable. louis scoffed, not because of something the other vampire had said but because miles davis' rendition of someday my prince will come started playing through the hotel's sound system. it nearly made louis' eyes roll into the back of his skull.

"three different colognes, vaseline and a bottle of overpriced gin." louis snarked before turning his head to fully face lestat. though the american vampire's expression was one of pleasant serenity, he was always caught off guard by lestat's beauty. no matter how much time had passed, it was still hard to believe something as beautiful as him had ever chosen him.

he is happy to see him.

they are both separated by a large mahogany table. lestat's pale eyes glare him down with a resentment that had been fattened by decades of silence and a one-sided memoir that painted him in a less than flattering light. a clock was ticking above their heads, a reminder of the infinite time they both had to walk this earth and of how willing they were to waste it with trivialities. louis stared lestat down, steadily, quietly, with a purposeful calmness which was sure to only infuriate the rockstar even further. they were supposed to remain silent as their lawyers stood right outside the door, discussing how to proceed after one of the great vampire lestat's controversial fits. this was a battlefield they stood in. the silence was meant to be a hostile tactic. and yet --- he is happy to see him.

the more louis looks into lestat's eyes, the more aware he becomes of the dilation of his ex-lover's pupils. is he high? is he happy with where he is, who he has surrounded himself with? jade eyes blink as he unabashedly faces the blond's snarl. louis wonders if the rockstar lifestyle might destroy an immortal. so many bright stars were snuffed out of existence due to it, such promising futures cut short ... could such a tragic end blow out the sun itself?

what are you thinking, louis wonders, how are you feeling?

and, almost as if reality itself had bent to his will and chosen to free itself from the humbling shackles that keep maker and fledgeling's minds from joining together, lestat speaks. are you single? the younger vampire simply sits there, slightly caught off guard by the sudden inquiry. but his eyes do not widen nor does his brow arch like it might have in the past. instead, louis offers a small nod.

he did not know why his hands felt the need to tighten the knot of his robe ( lestat's robe , to be more precise , louis still could not find the strength to stay away from his maker's shadow ). perhaps louis thought the thin layer of fabric could shield him from the vampire lestat's earnestness. but oh, he was despicable ; the manner in which lestat was so quick to laugh at his concerns regarding antoinette wounded louis so deeply he wondered if they were living in completely different plains of existence. but something worse than contempt brewed in depths of his being.

in some hidden part of his damned soul, louis enjoyed hearing such declarations. he marvelled at the thought of lestat, perfect in all angles, under bright and dim lights, handsome in joy and misery, passionate in both hatred and love, being bound to him as helplessly as louis was bound to the blond beauty. he was despicable ... but louis loved him back all the same.

through the good, the bad and the absolute worst.

discrete. my muse reacting to yours touching them under a table.

it did not feel real to be sitting next to lestat, listening to a jazz band in this strange new century. louis had fantasised about a return to their best years for so long that, to be experiencing something so distant (and yet so welcomed) again warranted a pinch if only to reassure the man that he wasn't hallucinating. to his disbelief, he was not. lestat sat there, next to him, enthralled by the singer's voice, glowing and handsome and warm --- a living breathing creature who, despite all his charm and taste, stood out like a shiny sore thumb in that jazz club.

lestat didn't seem to mind and, honestly, neither did louis. at least, not when it came to the flashy clothes; it was the fame that worried him. the chance that someone might take a picture and share it with whatever slimy piece of media got off on celebrity gossip nowadays was too big ... after the vampire louis' declaration of war on most of the vampire's population, the last thing he'd want would be to drag lestat into it. his ex-paramour had just risen from the ashes. louis didn't know what he'd do if he were to find himself responsible for lestat's second murder too.

for this and other reasons, he doesn't touch him. as much as louis thinks about it, he keeps his hand laid bare upon the table. the only indulgence he allows himself is the occasional glance towards his maker. a discreet show of reverence louis could never verbalise properly. he is bewitched by lestat's focus. even under the dim lights, louis can tell which musician those pale eyes follow. can tell when he's impressed by the singer's choices or when he's apprehensive. his pink lips always part ever so slightly when he is pleased with a particular note. but, even though he had always been discreet with his adorations, louis' emerald stare must've lingered for too long. before he knew it, the blond was staring back at him. and louis could not help but feel as if he had been caught.

the band carries on their song but, for the first time since they had sat down, neither of them appeared to be the least bit curious about watching the performance. louis thought for a moment that lestat might put him out of his misery and kiss him --- free him of the tight restraints of control by taking the lead in closing the space between them. it was bound to happen eventually, it always did when they ran into each other . louis found himself trying to guess what would be the straw breaking the camel's back; tried to contain his own excitement hoping lestat would feel compelled to coax it out of him. hoping he'd feel it in the air. hoping he'd give up and beg...

they stared at each other for too long. eventually louis offered a half-smile and turned his head back to the stage, feigning obliviousness. perhaps tonight would be the night they would manage to avoid the chaotic spiral of their affair. but, as louis tried to focus back on the music, he felt lestat's large hand snake across his lap and rub over his crotch. turning his head to give him a look was a mistake: meeting lestat's gaze always was. it did nothing to help untie the tightening knot forming in the pit of his stomach. it only caused louis' pants to become tighter.

louis suddenly pulled his hands away as if lestat's skin had scorched him ." what the fuck --- " he mumbled to himself . so often did their evenings end in these awkward fumbles . it seemed as if there could never be balance between them . nowadays their time together was either filled with never ending tenderness or a vile bitterness that threatened to burn each of them from within . both grew out of desperate need and never felt as enough . but all of it , the fighting , the holding, all of it was out of ... out of ---

louis sat up on the bed and squinted at lestat , searching for any evidence that might indicate the frenchman was joking . surely , he knew . he must have ! this was merely an attempt at humiliation ... a playful tease nothing more .

but the more he gazed down at his pale stare , the more louis came to realise that his maker might be , in fact , blind . did lestat truly think it was horniness which made him cross entire continents to meet him ? did he think the forgiveness they had granted each other to be something mundane or easy ? something to be offered to strangers on the street ? louis shook his head at the other vampire . a part of him urged him to gather his clothes and leave ; abandon this hotel room and refuse to face these ridiculous request ! but louis wanted to be different . at least , he wanted to try . so he remained seated , staring lestat down with genuine puzzlement .

of course , louis thought , of course i do ! of course , how do you not see it ? how can you not feel it ? he yelled in the depths of his mind . but even there , in the privacy of his own head , louis did not dare conjure the word . he had had no qualms in speaking it when he was alive . in fact he had said it plenty to his family . and to paul --- right before his leap . his momma's words echo there too , in the great halls of his memory : what did you say to him ? why was you even up there ? paul's in hell because of you .

he swallowed dryly as his eyes shifted across lestat's features . he deserved to hear it ... he longed for the word , begged for it now as they shared a bed again . but louis could not imagine a world without lestat . he had never professed his love out loud during their time together and that had rescued him --- had kept lestat alive despite his and claudia's scheming . if he said it now how could louis be sure lestat would not disappear ? how could he be sure he would not surrender to the fire of the morning as soon as he shut his eyes ?

louis furrowed his brow . he couldn't . " it's you . " he said , dumbfounded . " it's always been you . " louis casted his eyes down at the sheets which tangled around them . suddenly the words felt heavy on his tongue . " even at your worst ... at my most miserable , deep down ... i guess i never doubted that . " he moistened his lower lip . it was there , the word , lingering right on the tip of his tongue , begging to be shared and professed over and over again .