Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He's alone in his hotel room, missing Louis more than usual when the idea comes to him.

Lestat grabs his phone off the desk by the television and opens his Instagram. He doesn't normally post himself, as he's incredibly busy and still doesn't quite understand modern internet lingo just yet, but it's not like the intern his label hired would ever agree to post what he's about to.

Sex party in my hotel room, time is ASAP. Must be located in or near Atlanta or otherwise have the ability to teleport.

No, that's stupid. Not remotely funny.  He deletes the last part and tries again.

Sex party in my hotel room, time is ASAP. Must be located in or near Atlanta. Men only: any age, any build, any ethnicity presentation whatever so long as you can fuck.

No, wait. It's 2026. A woman could do the job just as well. He suspects a fifth of the women who attend his shows have the equipment needed anyways. And does it matter if the dick is flesh or not?  No, he supposes not.

Sex party in my hotel room, time is ASAP. Must be located in or near Atlanta. Anyone invited so long as you bring a dick real or fake, so long as you accept the only hole getting used tonight is mine. DM me for the address—

No, that's too much work. He'll have to message every single one of them individually. Or maybe a group chat? But he'd still have to add them all individually.

Sex party in my hotel room, time is ASAP. Must be located in or near Atlanta. Anyone invited so long as you bring a dick real or fake and accept that the only hole getting used tonight is mine. Come to the St.Regis hotel, suite 501. Looking forward to it!

He hits post. He figures he has time to take a quick shower first and get himself prepared so his loving fans don't have to waste time watching him stretch himself on his own fingers. Right as he's about to step into the shower, though, his phone rings: Amelia, the social media intern. Of course.

"Hello?"

"Lestat, what the hell—I mean, good evening Mr. Lioncourt. I noticed a strange post on your Instagram so I went ahead and deleted it, I hope you don't mind."

"How many saw it, you think?" Lestat asks. This is the predictable outcome.

"Oh, not too many.  It just got maybe a hundred or so likes.  But I'm worried some might've screenshotted it, so be aware of possible—"

Lestat hangs up. That might be enough attention or it might not be, he doesn't really care. As long as at least two or three fit ones show up he should be satisfied. And if that's not enough, he can go out and find more. He's just not really in the mood to leave the room if it isn't necessary. So he takes a shower, spends a good twenty minutes lubing himself up and fucking himself on his fingers until he's panting and so goddamn hard it almost hurts.

It's never enough. What he has planned for tonight won't be enough, either, but it's better than being alone. It's the closest he can get to feeling truly loved: a bunch of adoring strangers using him like a toy. It should feel demeaning, but it doesn't. Not when it's so easy to imagine they're all someone else.

And again, it's better than being alone.

He puts on his robe but leaves it undone. He remembers shortly after he's returned to the luxurious king size bed that no one can get in themselves without a keycard, so he gets up again, grabs the coffee maker and uses it to prop open the door. After another brief moment of thought, he goes to the notepad on the desk and writes down the words "cum on in." He has to rummage in the desk drawer for a bit before he finds some tape, but once he does he uses it to stick his makeshift sign to the door.

And then he waits.

He starts to grow bored when another thirty minutes pass by without sign of anyone. He worries security might be turning away people at the door but then he senses someone approaching. A minute later there's a knock, finally, and he tells them to come in.

Lestat immediately recognizes the face that walks in. The same tall, ginger haired man he's seen in the very front row at every one of the last four stops. He's got green eyes and the most freckles Lestat has ever seen on a person's face. Following closely behind him is his friend: mixed, if Lestat had to guess, with shoulder-length locs and plush lips the likes of which Lestat imagines would look wonderful enveloping his dick. They both appear to be in their thirties and are dressed comfortably, the former wearing a t-shirt with Lestat's face on it.

He also looks about a hair's width from collapsing when he spies Lestat laid out on the bed. His friend hooks a steadying arm around his elbow and whispers something in his ear about keeping his cool.

"Welcome, gentlemen. Come, join me." Lestat beckons them with a single curled finger. He smiles as the ginger's knees almost give out. "You can't fuck me from the doorway."

The ginger splutters something incomprehensible. His friend laughs and guides him across the room, someone else coming to stop just outside the door before gently opening it. An older white gentleman this time, gray haired and with a full salt-and-pepper beard. He looks very fit for his age. He glances at Ginger and his friend and smirks, then takes off his shoes.

"There a waiting line?" he asks, looking between Lestat and the other two.

Lestat shrugs. "I couldn't give less of a fuck who sticks their dick in me first."

Ginger glances at Beardie and puffs his chest out. He shakes his friend's hand off and kicks his shoes off before he starts unzipping his pants, maintaining eye contact with the older man who just smiles and shakes his head before undoing his own fly and backing up against the wall, then choosing to sit once he notices the chair next to him. By the time Ginger's got his pants down and his cock in hand another three have entered: one skinny latino with an impressive bulge and two young black men, one of them light skinned, bald, and very tall. Six and a half feet, if Lestat had to guess. The other is much darker skinned and closer to Lestat's height. He ignores the others and takes a seat in the open chair across from the bed, making very brief eye contact with Beardie before copying his pose, pants pulled down just enough to fist his own cock.

Ginger finally turns his attention to Lestat again, and his eyes go wide like he's surprised Lestat is watching him back. Lestat can't resist looking into his mind.

God, is this real? Have I died and gone to heaven? That car did come awfully close to hitting me outside the shop yesterday. Maybe it did. Jesus, he's even hotter without all the makeup. I'm not gonna last.

Lestat smirks. "Any day now, cherie."

He lays the accent on thick for the endearment, pleased with the way Ginger positively melts at the sound of it. Lestat opens his legs wider as he crawls onto the bed, decently sized cock an angry red to match the color of his hair. He pauses with his hand halfway extended, unsure whether to touch Lestat or reach for his robe first, perhaps.

Someone else comes into the room but Lestat is enjoying Ginger's shyness too much to look away.

"Well?" Lestat asks. "What are you waiting for?"

Ginger swallows heavily.

"If you're not gonna fuck him, I will."

"Yes, please hurry it up."

"Come on, man."

Ginger huffs in irritation, then reaches for Lestat's robe. Lestat leans up enough for him to get it off but doesn't otherwise assist. Ginger looks down and his eyebrows fly up almost into his hairline.

"Goddamn you're huge!" he says, licking his lips. Someone whistles.

"You can suck it later if you'd like," Lestat says, getting impatient. "But that's not what you're here for, now is it?"

Lestat pulls his knees up, then turns over, grabbing one of the larger pillows and shoving it under his middle before lying down on his stomach.

"God."

"Go get it, tiger!"

Lestat smiles as his cheeks are pulled apart, exposing his moist hole to the cool air. He expects the continued hesitation, but what he doesn't expect is for Ginger to shove his face between his cheeks.

"Mmmh!"

Lestat moans as he's licked roughly, Ginger's fingers digging into the meat of his ass with the strength of his grip on him. Someone complains, another voice he hasn't heard yet cheers him on. Lestat buries his face in a pillow and stops breathing manually. He doesn't come up for air again until Ginger removes his face from his ass and then, finally, sticks his dick in him.

He grunts when Ginger immediately pulls back and roughly snaps his hips forward. If his grip on Lestat's ass was tight before, he's near crushing it now as he fucks Lestat with the kind of vigor and enthusiasm Lestat's sure no one in the room expected from him.

"Yeah, there we go. Atta boy!"

"Fuck, Lestat. I fucking love you. I love your music, I love your face, I love your body." Ginger continues to sing his praises. "I love your tight fucking hole. God, I love you. I can't believe you're real. I can't believe this is real."

Lestat is suddenly hungry. He wants to drink from Ginger, but he doesn't want to risk scaring off any of the others before anyone's even came yet. But then Ginger does come with a pained-sounding whine, grinding up against Lestat's ass as he does. He folds himself over Lestat's back, panting as his dick twitches inside.

"Good boy," says Beardie. "You gonna let your friend have a turn?"

"Nah I'll wait. You go on first."

"Hopin' for some sloppy seconds, eh?"

He chuckles. "You got me."

"Ooh, I've got an idea. Hey, Jose? You wanna tag team 'im?"

"Ain't my fuckin' name, old man."

Ginger wraps his hand around Lestat's cock, stroking it slowly while the others plan their move.

"Whatever, kid. You want to or nah?"

"Yeah but I'm hittin' it from the back."

"Won't hear me complaining."

"On your way, then," Lestat says, gently urging Ginger to let go of him with one hand.

"Fuck. I'll be back."

"I sure hope so," Lestat says, and truly means it.

Someone else comes into the room but Lestat can't see past Beardie and the skinny one getting into their places. With the unneeded assistance from a gentle but strong, wrinkled pair of hands he seats himself on Beardie's lap, placing his hands on the man's hairy chest to balance though he hardly needs that either. The younger man slaps his dick against Lestat's ass a couple times impatiently while Beardie gets himself lined up and presses inside.

"Mmm, that's good. Nice and tight. Come on, kid."

The stretch of the second cock entering him from behind burns but only for a brief moment. Lestat throws his head back in ecstasy with a long, low moan.

"Yeah, baby."

The younger man thrusts wildly and without a consistent rhythm while Beardie merely sits there, hands traveling from Lestat's hips up his waist and to his shoulders, then to his throat. He squeezes gently, thumbs pressed against the carotid, and Lestat grins. He squeezes a little harder before releasing, to Lestat's mild disappointment, but then he's pressing a thumb against Lestat's mouth, urging him to open. He does, and that thumb presses up against one of his canines with intent.

Show 'em to me.

Lestat wasn't even reading his mind. The thought is practically beamed straight into his head. He's much too aroused to worry much about how that's possible, so instead he lets his fangs drop, biting down with just enough pressure to pierce Beardie's thumb.

"You're one gorgeous beast, aren't you?"

Lestat purrs, then licks the droplet of blood from his thumb. He continues to suck it even when it no longer bleeds.

"Is the lion hungry?" Beardie asks, then moves his hips for the first time since the other man started fucking him. Right on time, perfectly in sync. Lestat growls. "Why don't you ask Ginger to feed ya? Sure he'd be willing to. Ain't that right?"

"Y-yeah. Whatever you want, Lestat."

Lestat doesn't quite understand how they got here, but he isn't about to turn down a free meal.

"Mmm, later," he says. "Later, after…"

He gasps as Beardie bends his knees and snaps his hips on the younger man's next thrust. With the angle like that, the pressure against his prostate is almost unbearable. His dick is weeping almost immediately.

"You're so wet," Beardie says, then gives his dick a single stroke. "But you don't wanna come just yet, do ya?"

Lestat is too busy panting harsh breaths to respond verbally, so he shakes his head. The younger man finishes right that moment with a breathy gasp and immediately pulls out.

"That all ya got, junior?"

The taunt goes ignored. The tallest man in the room comes to take his place, seeming to struggle for a brief moment to get into position. Lestat does his best to accommodate him. He isn't bad, but he lacks the enthusiasm of Ginger and the girth of the last guy, leaving Beardie to do most of the heavy lifting. He finishes quickly as well, trading places with the man who came in at the same time as him. Lestat is confused for a moment as he feels something small and cold pressing up against his hole.

"That hurt when you get it in?" Someone asks, and then he understands what's being pushed inside him.

The piercing rubs against his rim in a manner that feels odd at first, but by the fifth thrust Lestat finds he quite enjoys it. Beardie and Piercing both shift at the former's suggestion, and on the next thrust that piercing scrapes against his prostate in a way that makes Lestat shout.

"Whoo, look at that."

"Damn. I might have to get my own dick pierced."

Lestat hears the door close, only to be opened again right after as someone else is let in. He has no idea how many people there are now, too enamored with the hammering of his prostate to care.

"You gonna come?" Beardie asks him. "Now, just as the fun is getting started?"

Lestat shakes his head. He's not there yet. If he could get off that easily, he wouldn't need a room full of people. A whole room full of people to make up for what he once got from just one person. Not one but a dozen or more pale proxies, none of them enough on their own nor combined.

More, he needs more.

He must say it out loud as Beardie and Piercing pick up the pace. Piercing comes and fucks into him a couple more times before pulling out slowly, his exit making a wet, sloppy sound. Lestat can feel the cum leaking out of him just as well as he can hear it.

"Fuckin' hell, man. You see that?"

"All the more reason to get my dick pierced, man. Fuck that's hot."

Beardie chuckles with a comment about how much of a mess Lestat's hole is. He tucks a stray strand of hair behind Lestat's ear, gets out half a question relating to Lestat's stamina before a feminine-sounding voice speaks up, asking whose turn it is now.

"Yours, if you want."

"I'm not goin' 'til the end so go on ahead."

"Now this is new," Beardie says, craning his head to look as the next one approaches. "Damn. Okay."

Soft hands pull Lestat's cheeks apart, and then the new person spits directly on his hole.

"Alright now."

Something too cool to the touch to be a real organ slides in. Lestat assumes it to be a strap-on by the way the person is situated behind him. He prepares himself for a more relaxed time but they haven't bottomed out yet. In fact they're still sliding in, slowly but ever so surely. Lestat keeps thinking that's got to be the end of it and is proved wrong again and again until he begins to feel a bit of discomfort in his lower stomach, and then it continues until that discomfort morphs into actual pain, and he winces.

"You doin' alright there?" Beardie asks. "That is a whole hell of a lot of silicone."

"Fine," Lestat says, and it's true because he's already growing used to it. Out of sheer curiosity, he removes one of his hands from the bed and places it on his lower stomach, just above his groin, then presses down slightly. He gasps as the pain comes back and he realizes he can feel that silicone dick from the outside.

"Lord almighty, I can see the bulge from here," Beardie says.

"You think you can take it?" Asks that feminine voice again, hands softly gripping his hips. "I can go slow."

"No need," Lestat says through grit teeth, ears ringing from how impossibly turned on he is right now. "Just fuck me."

And fuck him they do. Lestat almost regrets not telling them to pull out, but the pain and the pleasure mix so perfectly he can't do anything, can't say anything, can only hold onto Beardie for dear life as the newcomer rearranges his insides.

"God fucking damn, girl. Or man, whatever you are."

"Don't matter much to me," they say, voice impossibly even and calm despite the speed of their thrusts.

"Might not have a dick but you sure know how to fuck a hole real good," Beardie says. His voice betrays how close he is. Lestat would mourn the approaching loss of his cock if the fake one wasn't currently carving out a new path inside him.

Distracted as he is by the onslaught, he misses it when Beardie actually comes. He doesn't even realize he's pulled out of him and left the bed, or that he himself has been moved. He just endures the brutal fucking as best he can.

"Y'know what? Fuck sloppy seconds, I need to get in there," says Ginger's friend. "I know blood ain't all a vampire's good at sucking."

Lestat doesn't think he could give the friend the kind of attention he's looking for right now, but it seems the friend is fine with just having his dick slobbered on as he jumps onto the bed and guides Lestat's face to it, shoving it into his mouth without preamble.

"Mmm, there we go."

"Yo, you got room for another?"

"If you can squeeze on in, man, go ahead."

Lestat moans around the dick now actively fucking his mouth as someone else climbs onto the bed. That dick pulls out for just a brief moment as he's maneuvered by a new pair of hands and then another joins the massive dildo in his ass, but it's shoved right back into his mouth before he can cry out at the pain and pleasure of the stretch.

It's a good thing he doesn't need to breathe because Ginger's friend goes to town on his throat without a single care for his well-being while the other two hammer his ass. Blood tears prick his eyes as he chokes and moans and still doesn't come, not yet. He still needs more.

"Jesus, how much can you take, man?"

"A lot, apparently."

A sudden buzzing sensation at the back of his neck, then. Lestat attributes it to the awkward position of his head and nothing more, utterly overwhelmed as he is. It only gets worse when someone else climbs onto the bed and seals their lips over his right nipple, then takes his cock in hand and squeezes hard at the base before sliding it up to thumb at his foreskin.

The door closes again. Why do they keep closing it when it's so obviously propped open for a reason? It shouldn't irritate him as much as it does, he knows, but the longer he's attacked mercilessly from all directions without climaxing the more irritated he becomes.

"Yo, you ever seen shit like this?" Someone asks. "Never woulda imagined." They laugh.

"Are you about finished? You've been fuckin' him on that thing for ages now. What're you waiting for?"

"For him to come," the feminine voice grunts, finally sounding a little tired. "Not my fault he's being so stubborn."

"Move," Someone says. Lestat's whole body seizes up momentarily at the sound of it, his ears tuned to that voice, almost perking up like a dog's would.

"Not yet, I'm almost…"

"I won't ask again."

Lestat tries to pull away from the dick in his face, but he's so tired from the two in his ass he doesn't have the strength to pull it off. His eyes are really burning now, blood tears accumulating. One of them rolls down his cheek. He's afraid his mind is playing tricks on him too soon.

"Shit. What the fuck—"

"Whoa, okay, chill."

"Okay, okay. I'm moving."

Lestat can't tell what's happening. He feels the dildo pull all the way out of him, whining pathetically at the sudden emptiness he feels when the other dick in his ass and the one in his mouth suddenly retreat as well. With no one to hold him up now, he lets his head fall onto the bed. He wants to complain about the emptiness but he's too overstimulated, too overwhelmed still, and it only gets worse when someone shoves inside him again.

His eyes were half lidded but they fly open when the new person grabs a fistful of his hair and slams into him so hard the bed hits the wall with a thud. He hears multiple gasps and the sound of the door opening and then he's being fucked impossibly hard, struggling for breath like there's still a dick shoved down his throat. The bed continues to hit the wall, making quite a ruckus, but Lestat couldn't give less of a shit about that. An arm snakes around his midsection to pull him up, angling him so the next thrust is precise, and he shouts his pleasure. His legs begins to tremble before long and finally, finally, he feels his climax creeping up.

This is the only time the fantasy really works. It's the only time he can truly convince his brain that the person behind him, above him, under him, is the one person he wants to be there. The only person on the planet who owns his heart, a heart he never seemed to really want. Just when he's about to reach that peak, the height of pleasure, the very edge of his desire, that's when he can feel Louis like he's really there.

He calls his name. Louis's movement falters like he's surprised to hear it, and then he pulls out of Lestat just long enough to flip him over. Lestat is surprised to see his face, not at all like what he usually imagines. He looks hurt, angry in a way he isn't normally when he fucks Lestat. The Louis that comes to him when he's high and so lonely he can't breathe is often angry, but not hurt. This expression on him doesn't make sense for the situation. The situation doesn't call for that kind of expression.

"Kiss me," Lestat says. Begs with his eyes, his body language. "Please."

Louis's expression falters, growing softer. He leans in like he's going to grant Lestat's wish but he doesn't fully close the distance. He presses into Lestat again and resumes thrusting. Lestat's so close but he doesn't want this to end. He doesn't want to lose Louis so soon again. He begs for him to slow down, to stay just a little longer this time, to not leave him again. He cries. He reaches up to hold his face with both hands, barely keeping his orgasm at bay.

Louis makes an expression he can't decipher before leaning in further and biting him, fangs sinking directly into his carotid. Lestat comes so hard his vision blurs and turns fuzzy around the edges, shooting rope after rope and even managing to get some of it on his own chin. He can't breathe. His whole body shakes with the aftershocks as his dick continues to pulse, that cock still driving inside of him. He's long past the point of overstimulation but he can't move, can't speak, can't otherwise put an end to it.

And Louis is still drinking his blood. He just finished but Louis is still there, still drinking from him. Still a solid being, still shaped and smelling and feeling like himself. Lestat doesn't understand. Louis disengages from his neck and pulls back to look at him and Lestat doesn't understand.

There's no one else in the room anymore. They're alone, and Louis is flesh and blood above him and inside him. Louis is still moving inside him.

"Where're you at, Lestat?" Louis asks.

Lestat doesn't know what to make of the question.

"You with me?" Louis asks.

Lestat can't speak. The movement inside him is no longer pleasurable, more on the side of discomfort, but he doesn't want Louis to leave him. He doesn't want any unnecessary distance between them, ever.

"Lestat."

"Come inside me," Lestat says. That's how he'll know. "Come inside me first."

Louis blinks at him, then ups the pace. Lestat can't enjoy the sensation itself but it feels right, having Louis inside him. He always wants Louis with him, inside him, a part of him.

Louis comes, face crumpling with pleasure as he gasps. Lestat's breath whooshes out of him and he throws his arms around Louis's back, holding him tight while he spurts and pulses inside of him.

He doesn't care why Louis is here. He doesn't care how. He doesn't care that they both know he'll be gone again before long, like he always is. All that matters is that he's here now.

At least that's what Lestat tells himself.

Chapter Text

Yeah I added Louis and he also has one (1) bite mark, because I can. ^ _ ^

Edit: Seems like the image is broken for people on desktop (at least in my case, mobile is fine) so if you can't see the image you can also see it on Twitter and Bluesky

Chapter Text

Louis really wishes he'd given in at some point to his urge to find Lestat again. Because if he had found Lestat in anything close to the state he was in when he found him in his little run-down and rotting shack, he wouldn't have needed a week-long interview. He would've taken one look at him and known that something wasn't right, that Lestat wasn't the sort of person he thought he was. The sort of person Armand had convinced him he was.

Christ, it was like a sad wet cat made a wish to become a man, perhaps thinking its outlook on life would improve once it had opposable thumbs and the ability to speak. Lestat acted almost like he didn't know where exactly he was or what year it was, or whether Louis was really there, judging by the look on his face and the way his heart rate and breathing sped up when Louis came closer. And that 'piano'…what was Louis supposed to do, other than drag him out into the hurricane and back to the hotel?

Wind buffeting them, near-horizontal rain drenching them, flying debris pelting them as they struggled their way back and broke in, a quick apology to the receptionist for the damaged boards that would need to be replaced, and then they were safe. Lestat was safe, but he was also shivering to the point that his teeth chattered, and Louis insisted he take a hot shower.

Nearly an hour later, as Louis is sure the shower feels amazing after what he'd been through, Lestat finally emerges wearing a hotel-branded fluffy white bath robe. And while he looks better than he did earlier wearing that familiar hundred-year-old robe, he still looks sick. It's obvious he's been eating rats for a very long time. He might still not believe this is entirely real. He looks at Louis almost like he's afraid of him, or that he isn't real after all, and Louis can't help it. It's been almost a century now that he's been killing the both of them slowly for something he now knows Lestat didn't want. He's been punishing them both for something neither of them did, missing Lestat all the while, and he just can't hold himself back anymore.

He approaches Lestat slowly, not wanting to spook him. Lestat just stands there staring at him without a word as he lifts one hand and places it on the side of his face. His eyes flutter closed and he sighs quietly, leaning into it, and then Louis leans in to kiss the other side of his face. Same side, same spot on the cheek as he had earlier when they embraced. But he lingers a bit longer this time before kissing him again, just to the side of his nose. Then the tip of his nose, and when Lestat opens his eyes and tries to pull away, he goes for the lips.

Lestat flinches at first, but Louis doesn't let him pull away. He knows Lestat still loves him. He knows his reaction isn't out of real fear or disdain, that it's nothing but surprise. So he holds him close and glides his lips over Lestat's. It takes more time than he would expect but Lestat does reciprocate, a little hesitant with his movements until Louis deepens the kiss and backs him up to the edge of the bed, pushing him down onto it and following before either of them really has a chance to catch a breath. Lestat opens his legs to make room for him as he wraps both arms around his shoulders, holding tight while Louis gently nibbles on his bottom lip before diving back in tongue-first. Louis slides a hand into the opening of the robe and Lestat abruptly breaks the kiss, turning his head to the side to dodge Louis's hungry lips.

"I'm sorry, I—it's too much," Lestat says, swallowing heavily. "Too much at once. I need…"

"What do you need, Lestat?"

"I need you to slow down. I haven't—it's been a very long time since last I…"

It takes Louis a moment to understand. "Not since…?"

Lestat shakes his head. "Not since the night before Mardi Gras."

Now that's a real surprise. "Not…with anyone?"

Lestat shakes his head again. "No one. I couldn't…I didn't want to…" He's really struggling with his words, even slurring them a bit like his tongue is too heavy in his mouth. "I just couldn't."

Louis isn't sure what, exactly, makes him say it. Maybe after 77 years with Armand, where this sort of thing was normal—at least during the couple decades he was actually fucking Armand regularly, in between the decades spent where he was mostly just fucking off—he forgets this isn't something he ever tried with Lestat. Or maybe he's just so pleased to hear that Lestat of all people hasn't had sex with anyone else in close to a century. That he's been sitting right here in New Orleans, only a couple blocks from their old house this whole time. Waiting for him.

"Keeping yourself for me, were you?"

It's out of his mouth for only half a second before he regrets it. Lestat's eyes go wide. Louis opens his mouth before he can even think what to say, like anything he can say will undo what he just said, but Lestat speaks first.

"Yes," he says, giving Louis a sheepish smile. "I am yours, Louis. Always."

He's being completely genuine. It isn't exactly the response Louis's reptile brain wanted, isn't the kind of response Louis himself would ever expect, but it's pleasing to the reptile and the vampire alike. Very pleasing.

"Eighty years," Louis says, but no. He wants to play, and he has a hunch Lestat will be more than willing to play along. "No, a hundred and fifty years, was it? How old are you again?"

Lestat blinks at him, kiss-swollen lips turning down in confusion. "Two hundred and sixty-two."

Louis gasps in mock surprise, placing his hand on Lestat's cheek. "Oh, you poor thing. All that time waiting…I wouldn't have the patience for it. Did you at least experiment? I wouldn't hold you to it, if you did. I would too."

He thinks he's lost Lestat completely for a moment. But he's in too deep now to back out, so instead he presses further.

"Did you at least try a finger? See how much it took to relax enough to take it?"

Lestat still looks a little confused, but he doesn't seem quite so lost as he was a moment ago. So Louis continues, sliding one hand from where it's clutching Lestat's waist down to his inner thigh. The urge to bring that hand higher and tear the bath robe away is strong but he wants to make sure they're on the same page first.

"Did you try more? Stretch yourself on three of 'em, try and imagine what it would feel like to finally have my dick inside you?"

He sees it clearly when Lestat finally catches on.

"No," Lestat says, sounding a little breathless. "I haven't. I wanted to be perfect for you."

Louis was started to calm down a bit before he started this impromptu game, but Lestat's response sends the blood rushing to his dick so fast it makes him dizzy, and now he does bring his hand up to the loose knot of the robe belt like he wanted to. "Well, I'll be the judge of that. Let's have a look-see."

He unties the belt and pulls the robe away slowly, just from Lestat's upper half to start. It's the same picturesque form that's haunted his dreams for decades but his skin is clammy. He's too cold, too pale, and Louis wants desperately to see him feed.

"You're gorgeous," Louis says, taking note of Lestat's sharp little gasp. "But much too pale. Have you been starving yourself as well?"

Lestat takes a moment to answer. "Yes."

"Why?" Louis asks, then before he can answer honestly and spoil the mood, "Were you saving your fangs for my neck, too?"

Lestat's breath shudders out of him. Louis looks up at his face to see him nodding, eyes squeezed shut like he can't handle looking at him.

"You didn't need to, sweetheart, but I appreciate it."

Lestat's eyes fly open again at the endearment. They're red-rimmed like he might cry at any moment, and though Louis liked seeing him so open earlier, he doesn't want him to waste what little blood he has in him.

"Louis—"

"You can drink now," Louis says, releasing Lestat to slice his wrist open. Lestat sits up immediately, eyes wide and dark with hunger. "You've waited long enough."

Lestat takes his wrist gently and seals his lips over the wound. He drinks slowly but deeply, the sensation pleasing and calming for Louis in equal measure.

Louis is amused to see the robe tenting as Lestat finally gets some decent quality blood in him.

"Mmm, that's much better now, isn't it?"

Louis kissed him on the cheek again, then trails his lips down to Lestat's ear, pausing his journey briefly to nibble on the shell of it before moving down further to kiss his neck. Lestat's breathing picks up again as he continue on to his collarbone, his shoulder, his inner elbow, and all the way down to his wrist. He reaches his hand and kisses the tip of every single finger, then his palm, tongue darting out to lick at the soft, vulnerable skin between his fingers.

"Louis."

Louis hums, but Lestat says nothing else so he quietly resumes his journey across Lestat's skin. Starting back at his collarbone first, then moving down to his left pec, sucking hard at the skin over his heart before turning his head and resting his ear against it to hear the thump, thump, thump of it. Beating fast and strong now, not quite in rhythm with his own just yet but soon to be, surely.

"Louis."

Again Lestat says his name and only his name, so again Louis ignores it, this time in favor of swirling his tongue around a rapidly hardening nipple, then sucking. He bites down gently and Lestat flinches towards him instead of away, one hand pressing on the back of his neck like he wants Louis even closer. But he still pulls away for a moment to speak, Lestat fighting him only for a second before dropping his hand.

"Don't wanna focus all my attention on just one part of you," Louis explains, "Not when all of you is so perfect."

The noise Lestat makes is at the crossroads of a laugh, a sigh, and a groan. Louis doesn't quite know what to make of it but Lestat isn't telling him to stop so he doesn't. He trails kisses down Lestat's ribs and belly, pausing briefly to dip his tongue into his belly button and chuckling quietly at the way it makes Lestat squirm. The robe is still covering his lower abdomen and further down but Louis looks up at Lestat again before he does anything about it.

"Are you ready, love?"

Tears spring up in Lestat's eyes almost instantaneously. He shakes his head vigorously. "Yes," he says. "Please. I've been waiting so long. I can't wait anymore, Louis. I can't."

Louis shushes him. "Okay, let's get this off of you."

Lestat sits up a little straighter to make Louis's job easier, and together they slide the robe off completely. Louis takes a step back to admire his fully nude form and whistles appreciatively.

"You really are perfect," he says. "Head to toe."

Lestat flips his hair, preening a little now at the repeated compliment. It makes Louis happy to see his old self slowly returning.

"But I still need to feel you."

He turns away from Lestat long enough to search the bedside drawer for some lubricant. The bottle he soon finds is the real fancy kind, promising ultimate slickness. Certainly helpful to have on hand for a virgin hole.

Lestat spreads his legs further when Louis approaches, moving as if to scoot back as well but Louis grabs him by the ankle to stop him, then gives it an apologetic kiss.

"Here," he says. "Where I can see you better."

Lestat swallows then nods, looking almost shy. Louis wonders how much of it is part of the act and how much of it is real.

He urges Lestat to lie flat on his back and pulls his knees up until he's got himself on full display. He figures the barely noticeable shaking to be due to either nerves or excitement and not any genuine tiredness or discomfort, thanks to his blood. He finds it cute but doesn't bring any attention to it, just to the main event.

"Mmm, just as I thought," he says, placing a thumb each on either side of it and stretching gently. "Cute and pink."

Lestat's huff sounds as annoyed as it does impatient. It takes everything in Louis not to laugh at the sound of it. He opens the cap of the lubricant and squirts a generous amount on his index finger.

"We'll go real slow. Don't want to hurt this tight virgin hole of yours now, do we?"

Lestat says nothing but Louis clocks the way his thighs tense up and then relax again almost imperceptibly. He seems to be enjoying this as much as Louis is, if not even more. He seems like he's holding back quite a bit.

Louis presses the tip of his index finger in slowly, and though Lestat isn't a virgin he's certainly tight enough to play the role. His rim has a death grip around Louis's fingertip and is doing its best to stop him from penetrating too deeply.

"Ooh, baby. You're real tight."

Lestat groans. "I don't think I can handle it, Louis."

At first he thinks Lestat is about to urge him to hurry it up, has a response ready and everything, but Lestat takes it in the total opposite direction.

"Even just your finger is too much," he says, then gasps when Louis wiggles it a little. "It's too much."

Louis tuts at him. "Patience, baby. I know you can take it. We just gotta open you up a little first."

He pulls his finger out and makes a show of squeezing a frankly ridiculous amount of lube on it. Because as much as he's enjoying this, he really wants to get his dick in Lestat before the night is over.

His finger goes in a little more easily this time but Lestat still squirms and gasps at the intrusion. "Louis, please."

"Please what, baby?" Louis crooks his finger and Lestat practically wails. God, he's really selling this. An actor for only two years? Truly?

"Be gentle," Lestat says. "Your nails."

Louis had honestly forgotten about that. Lestat never cared when he fingered him the couple of times he did, and Louis never had any complaints either. But it would make sense for someone truly new to this to be alarmed by their sharpness and maybe notice it more easily even when takin precaution.

"I'm bein' gentle," Louis says. "I know it's tight. You just gotta give it time."

He pulls his finger out a little more quickly and pushes it back in, going further this time. Lestat squirms again but stays quiet. When Louis looks up at his face he sees he's got his eyes screwed shut, brows drawn, and a very real drop of blood sweat visible on his forehead.

Maybe he isn't acting at all.

Louis continues to gently penetrate him with half of his finger for a couple minutes until Lestat looks and feels to have relaxed a bit. He removes his finger again to add even more lube and then presses it in once more, this time going as deep as he can before stopping.

"How's that feel?"

"Still too much," Lestat says, "But better."

"Try squeezing around me. Wanna get your body used to me bein' in there before I add more of me."

Lestat grunts and clamps down on his finger. Louis moans at the strength of his grip, feels his dick straining painfully against the front of his pants. God, why is he still fully clothed?

"Feels strange," Lestat says. "C'est trop mais pas assez non plus."

Louis chooses to take the sudden French as a good sign. "You think you can take more now?"

"Je ne sais pas. But I want it."

Louis removes his finger slowly. Once he's pulled it out he quickly removes his jacket and shirt. Lestat looks up at him curiously and Louis gives him a curious look back, but once he's removed everything and Lestat stares wide-eyed at his dick he realizes what the look was for.

"Louis I really don't think I can manage that," Lestat says. "One finger alone is too much. Tu pourrais me briser."

Him and Lestat are close in size, really. Lestat is just maybe a half inch longer, and he knows Louis's dick very intimately, but again his delivery is so impressive Louis can vividly imagine the scene they've created as real. Lestat the hundreds of years old virgin, nervous and overwhelmed by the size of Louis's dick.

"You can," Louis says. "Trust me. I won't hurt you."

He leans in and kisses Lestat's inner thigh before lubing up a second finger. He sticks the first finger in and thrusts it a couple times before adding both.

"You see? It's easier with the two now than it was with just the one."

Lestat's response is a quiet moan.

Louis fucks him on both fingers in silence until Lestat starts clenching around him again, quietly urging him on, and then he curls both fingers upwards on his next downward thrust. Lestat gasps and arches his back, nearly leaving the bed entirely—something he once did quite often when they were still together, using the cloud gift.

"You're doing so well, Louis says. "I think you can take me now, don't you think?"

"I don't know," Lestat says. "Je ne sais pas. It's a lot still. I can't—I can barely. Mmmhm."

His thighs are already trembling: that much is genuine. Unfortunately for the fake virgin Lestat, that only gives urgency to Louis's need to be inside him for real.

"You can do it."

Louis pulls his fingers out and retrieves the lube again.

"Louis, I really don't know if I can—"

"You can. I promise you can."

Louis presses the head of his newly slick dick against his hole, rubbing it against his rim a couple times to give him time to prepare.

"You can take it," he says one last time before pressing in.

"Ohhh—"

Lestat clenches down hard. So hard in fact that Louis actually struggles to push for a second, but then he releases and the added pressure Louis had needed to make any progress at all has him quickly burying himself to the hilt.

"Ah, fuck—"

Lestat makes a noise that's equal parts a moan and a wail. Louis is surprised to see him actually crying real tears when he looks up, worrying for a moment that it really is too much, but then Lestat clenches down once more briefly before rolling his hips.

"I'm all the way in," Louis says, because the virgin Lestat might not know that. "You've got all of me."

Lestat whines.

"You okay?" Louis asks, waiting to move until he hears something positive.

"Hurts," Lestat says, as he clenches once more. "But it feels good, too."

"Can I move?"

"Please. Yes, please move."

Louis does as asked and Lestat gasps, following that up with a loud, low moan. Louis keeps his thrusts slow and shallow at first, letting Lestat acclimate to him though he's sure he doesn't need to realistically. All the while, Lestat shivers and shakes beneath him.

"More, Louis. Please. I need more."

"You want me to fuck you harder?"

"Oui, harder. Faster."

Lestat shouts when Louis pulls all the way out to the tip and rams into him. He raises both legs to wrap around his hips when he thrusts again just as hard, and then he digs his nails into Louis's shoulder blades as Louis begins to fuck him in earnest.

"This what you wanted?" Louis asks between panting breaths. "This what you waited so long for?"

His only response is a sobbing gasp.

"This body of yours," Louis grunts, grabbing a tight handful of Lestat's pec. "This perfect body, this tight hole…it's all mine."

"Yes. Yes, Louis."

"Wanna hear you say it."

"It's all yours, mon—Louis. It's all yours!"

"No one else gets to have you like this. Ever."

"Louis, I'm—"

"Say it, Lestat. No one else but me. Never again."

"Oui, Louis. I'm yours. I'm only—ah—only yours! No one but you, mon cher, no one. Never again. I swear. I—"

Lestat's whole body seizes up as he comes. He's so tight around Louis suddenly it almost hurts, and the sight of Lestat gasping for breath as the aftershocks take their toll on him, his cock still spurting, sends Louis to the edge right after him.

"Mine," Louis growls, burying himself deep inside Lestat one last time. "All mine."

His orgasm is so strong he quite literally sees stars at the edges of his vision. His ears start ringing as he pants through it, Lestat moaning with him all the while.

"Ahh, fuck."

"Fuck indeed," Lestat says, then chuckles.

Louis pulls out of him slowly and falls to his knees, too tired to hold himself up. Lestat sits up at the edge of the bed and hooks both hands under his armpits to pull him back up onto it, laying him down on his side next to him and bringing one hand up to stroke his cheek.

"It was a very good first time," he says with a smile.

Louis huffs an amused breath and closes his eyes, a little overwhelmed now that the game's over and the post-nut clarity is starting to set in. God, he never would've said any of that if circumstances were even a little bit different.

But he doesn't regret saying any of it. Not yet, at least.

"I wish it were true," Lestat says. His voice is quiet, just barely over a whisper.

"Hmm?" Louis opens his eyes again to look at him.

Lestat's face is…somber?

"That you were the only one," Lestat clarifies. "That no one else had me that way before you, somehow."

Louis feels his face soften at those words. He reaches for Lestat, but before he can touch him Lestat closes his eyes.

"I wish I could travel back in time somehow," he says. "Really save myself for you. It would be more than worth it." He opens his eyes again and Louis drops his hand, surprised to see the unshed tears in them. "But even if there were a way to go back, it wouldn't be possible. I'd never live long enough to meet you if it weren't for Magnus."

It's quiet for a long moment, their breathing the only sound besides the distant roaring of the hurricane outside. Louis rolls those words around in his head, examining them from every angle, until the real meaning at the center of them is revealed to him.

"Baby," Louis says, finally cupping Lestat's chin, because there really isn't anything he can say. He doesn't have access to a time machine. He can't go back and save Lestat from his fate. He can't make the pain of it any better.

"I would have gladly waited for you," Lestat says. "I would have said yes, if it was you. If you were to—"

There's clearly more he wants to say, but Louis figures he's reached his limit on emotional honesty for the night as a single tear slides down his cheek and he shakes his head, taking a deep breath.

"I'm very glad you're back, mon cher."

"Me too, Les. Me too."