#lestat please

……

We were all so busy being giddy about Lestat’s half hysterical admission over his tiny foot size that we didn’t spend any time worrying over whether or not he had a firm grasp on his numbers

Lestat in Blood Communion :

( @esoterium asked: [ 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 ] ― sender kisses licks the corner of the receiver's mouth to taste the lingering flavour of what they ate or drank on their lips (blood--and lestat to armand-- is it just to eff with him..probably..who knows!) )

he inhales sharp, reflexively as lestat leans in, tongue at the corner of his mouth, knowing he'd be waiting with bated breath a millennia for no resolution. even in closeness, with his mouth so close to his, armand doesn't receive what he wants —

( mouth pressed fully to his, fangs sinking into his lower lip, the taste of him replacing that of his latest kill )

no, the fantasy slips away, unspoken, walled in to the corners of his mind. instead, it's only lestat who takes a taste, infuriatingly. armand's desire for lestat has been as loud and clear as he could ever make it. he spins dramatically from wanting his companionship to bloody him with fists and frustration ( but lestat, despite the centuries armand has above him has managed to best him before ). he stands there, jaw clenching, his gaze transforming from desire to frustration because there's nothing about lestat's actions that he trusts. he knows better than to assume the brat prince is being any more than just that — a brat.

❝ you're a tease. ❞