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Love would be his death

Summary:

There were times when nothing seemed to be enough for Lestat, all the touches, the sweat, the blood, the tears, Lestat wanted more, he always wanted everything and more, and Louis was always the reason for all his deepest obsessions.

Notes:

I miss them so much you have no idea, GIVE ME THE LOUSTAT REUNION. Please be aware that English is not my first language, I apologize for any mistakes.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

 

Lestat's touches took root in his skin as if they belonged there. As if his hand were the last missing piece for Louis to feel whole again, he could see it as clearly as the painful light of day, the intense sensation, as if he were drowning, the gasps, moans, he can't remember feeling like this before, overwhelmed, as if he could feel the bloody tears running down his face as he wiped them away so gently that it didn't even seem like he was the one making him shed those same tears.

Lestat is a ferocious creature, he is fire against Louis' skin, he melts everything inside the younger vampire, he becomes everything that surrounds Louis, he is everything and maybe that's all Louis has ever needed, he's tired of looking for answers, for reasons, for a place to run to. Maybe he could just give in and let Lestat take care of everything else, maybe he could close his eyes and just concentrate on Lestat's breath against his neck, his hands around his waist, squeezing and squeezing, caressing his hipbone, touching him everywhere as if he would never get tired of it, and Louis would be lying if he said he wasn't afraid of him actually getting tired of it.

Louis' breath catches in his throat and a soft, high-pitched sound escapes from his blood-stained lips, both from having Lestat's teeth pulling on his lower lip and from having bitten his wrist at some point during the long night. He sees stars, and for a moment he's even seen the sun, everything is so suffocating, intense, it burns, but it's so good, he couldn't ask for anything more, his body has been on fire for so long and the smirk on Lestat's face makes it clear that he's nowhere near letting Louis rest.

"I see you're still able to gather thoughts in that pretty little head of yours. " a strong, intense thrust inside him, hitting that very spot that had been stimulated for hours. "Maybe I'm not fucking you hard enough, Mon Cher?"

Lestat's words make Louis whimper because he's not sure he can take being fucked even harder than he already is. He's so out of breath, and Louis can't focus his eyes anywhere, he briefly keeps looking at the ceiling while Lestat is on top of him, between his thighs, inside him, he's everywhere, on every inch of Louis' skin, swallowing every soft, fragile moan that keeps escaping Louis' lips, kissing him with such intensity that it makes Louis' head go blank, there's nothing but Lestat and it feels so right, nothing has ever felt so right before.

Lestat's hands grab his hips to make his thrusts even deeper and more intense, the sounds escaping Louis' lips make the music of the world's most famous musician sound like nothing, the vampire's face underneath him is red, lips swollen and perfect to be bitten, eyelashes trembling, he looks like the most beautiful creature ever to set foot on this Earth and Lestat is honored and lucky to have him, it's in moments like these that Lestat is sure he'll never let him go, Louis is his and no being can change that, he's his to kiss, to please, to enjoy every part of, to bite, to make his eyes water, to make him feel the most intense pleasure of his life and to love.

Lestat's love, however, is capable of killing. This should alert Louis, but in fact it makes him feel absurdly and truly loved. It's a cycle, Lestat would die and kill for him, Louis knows it, it's dangerous, it's like the purest form of fire that consumes an entire forest, burning everything in its path, taking everything, leaving nothing but ashes and memories behind.

He loves him, though. He loves him as if he were incapable of loving anything else, Louis loves him as if Lestat were oxygen, as if he were the blood he needs to survive. Louis loves him like fallen angels who still love their creator, it's suffocating, it hurts, sometimes he's afraid it will consume him, but then his death wouldn't have been in vain, nothing would make him regret it. Love would be his death.

"Louis." Lestat's voice reaches his ears and his heart at the bottom of the sea, or perhaps in the most dangerous fires. "Mon Cher." he whispers as he kisses his lips gently as if he wasn't trying to fuck Louis' brains out, as if he wasn't trying to make him faint with pleasure.

He grabs Louis' thigh, spreading his legs even wider, burying himself inside him as if he were trying to get inside Louis' flesh, as if he were trying to reach his heart, maybe he should open his ribcage and take his heart in his hands. Louis would let him.

"I love you, Louis. " Lestat says, and nothing has ever seemed so true before. Louis knows it's true, he really does, but a part of him fears it's as reciprocal as anything. Because Louis loves him. There's no other word for it. It's love. Love that kills, love that heals, love that hurts, love that comforts.

Arms wrap around his body, his waist, flipping him on the bed. Louis lets out a sound of complaint, because he doesn't have enough strength in his body to move, but still Lestat lies back on the bed and puts Louis on top of him, his cock so deep inside him that Louis can feel it in his stomach. Lestat holds his waist, moving his hips up inside him, and Louis tries to rest his hands on Lestat's chest. "Will you ride my cock, Mon Cher?" Lestat smiles, he has that wild look in his eyes, teeth white and sharp, pupils dilated.

He can't, he's tired, but he still tries. His head is too heavy for his neck, he tries to move his hips in circles with Lestat inside him, he's so tired and the slightest effort to lean on Lestat's chest makes his arms burn, he tries to get up on his knees only to feel Lestat's cock going even deeper inside him - as if that were physically possible - and he whimpers loudly, he's going to cry again, he can already feel his eyes watering with bloody tears, his stomach burns, his thighs ache, he gasps, he grunts, he feels like he's drowning in all the sensations that threaten to get the best of him.

"Lestat." he whispers so low he can barely hear himself, Lestat's hands caressing his trembling thighs, he's teasing him, seeing how far he can take it.

"Yes, Louis?" Lestat retorts calmly as he thrusts inside him, holding him still on his hips.

"I can't. " Louis laments, letting his head fall back, arching his spine. "I–I can't, please..."

"But look at you, Mon Cher. So beautiful, majestic, magnificent. " Lestat licked his lips. "We still have time, Louis. We're in the middle of the night, I'm far from finished with you. "

In fact, Louis has been fucked for a little more than three hours. He could already feel his bones aching, his muscles tense, nerves burning, the back of his eyes stinging. "I'm – so tired, Lestat." he confesses, pressing both hands against Lestat's shoulders. "So tired, I can't take it anymore, just—"

Lestat's hand reaches for his chin, his thumb caressing his cheek. "One last time, then I'll let you rest, Mon Cher." he practically purrs. "You are so good for me, Louis, so good, all relaxed and open for me, letting me touch every inch of your body, I couldn't ask for anything more, not when I have you. "

Louis feels himself melting even more, he smiles weakly, trying to open his eyes. He looks at him through his eyelashes and tears. "Okay." he whispers, biting his lower lip. "Yes, Lestat. "

It's more than enough for Lestat, because he's holding Louis in his arms and putting him face down on the bed. Louis doesn't do much apart from lie on his stomach and press his face against the pillows. He closes his eyes when he feels Lestat pushing his knees apart, and then he's inside him again with such ease that a contented moan escapes Louis' throat. He melts into the mattress, his face relaxed, his nails scratching the sheets. Saliva drips from the corner of his lips, staining the pillow.

Lestat's hand presses against the middle of his spine, keeping him still - as if he were going somewhere - and fucks him again as if he had never stopped in the first place. The sounds of skin against skin echo in the room, the older vampire's free hand grabs his waist, making him arch his back, staying on his knees, his torso pressed against the mattress. It's intense, Louis is moaning against the pillow again, the sounds that keep coming from his lips sound more like tired whimpers, his voice all used up, his throat aches, he's thirsty and hungry.

The sounds Lestat makes, however, sound wild. Hungry, possessive, his hands grip every part of Louis' body as if he has no intention of letting go ever again, he's panting, out of oxygen, but he doesn't look tired, no, not at all, in fact he looks hornier than ever, thrusting deep, hard, fast, and Louis has the faintest idea that he wants him to come again, because the pleasure takes root in his stomach again. Louis has already come so many times that he's lost count, but if Lestat's hand gets anywhere near his cock he'll probably come so hard that he'll start crying again.

"Tell me again how many hours I've been fucking you, Mon Cher?" Lestat practically growls, panting. "I don't think it really matters, though, because I could go on for many more hours and I still wouldn't get tired of you. Of being inside you. Of feeling you tighten around my cock, and no matter how many times I fuck you, you're still so tight for me, it's like I belong inside you. You feel it too, don't you?" he proves his point with a hard thrust deep enough to make him roll his eyes behind his closed eyelids.

Louis doesn't say anything, they both know he can't. He grabs the sheets and shrinks his limbs, writhing on the mattress as if he can't handle this much pleasure, Lestat's cock filling all the right parts inside him, and maybe even more. His legs are shaking so much that he can hardly breathe anymore, Louis suspects that maybe Lestat is trying to kill him again. He can't think of anything but Lestat, he can't feel anything but Lestat, he can't breathe anything but Lestat.

It's becoming too much, Louis knows he's getting closer and closer, the thrusts inside him don't stop, Lestat's hand climbs from the middle of his spine to the back of his head, grabbing the back of his neck, turning his head to the side. "Have I told you I love you, Mon Cher?" Lestat leans over him, Louis feels his chest against his back, the angle makes his cock press against that sensitive spot inside him. "Tell me how many times you need to hear it and I'll tell you. A hundred times, a thousand, a hundred thousand, it doesn't matter, I'll tell you that I love you. "

A tear escapes from Louis' closed eyelids. He lets out a fragile, sensitive sound. "Lestat... " he whispers, Lestat's chest pressing him against the mattress. "I love you, Lestat. " Louis gasps, sniffling through his nose.

The fangs in his neck are answer enough. Louis grunts, then moans and whimpers. The fangs sink into his flesh easily, it's a dance they both already know the choreography to, Lestat's lips against his skin, his panting breath against his neck, it's too much, just too much, Louis' muscles tense, he rolls his eyes, his stomach burns, his neck hurts, the sharp pain goes through his neck where Lestat is biting him, then Louis is coming untouched under his abdomen. His muscles squeeze Lestat inside him, making the older vampire moan against his neck, still swallowing his blood.

Everything floats away for long seconds. Everything disappears except Lestat. There are only the two of them. And Louis is loved, and he loves back.

 

(. . .)

 

"Open your eyes for me, Mon Cher."

Louis' body weighs nothing. But it weighs everything at the same time. He's tired, more tired than ever, his body aches, he could sleep for days, maybe forever, his skin burns, everything feels so hot, but there's something missing

"Just for a moment, then I'll let you sleep, I promised, remember?" Lestat kisses his cheek affectionately. His words sound like the purest form of love.

Louis opens his eyes, tired, eyelashes fluttering, eyes unfocused. "Mm?" he murmurs, laying his head in Lestat's hand, yes, that feels right, this is what was missing.

"Let me feed you a bit, hm? I don't want you to get weak after our intense night of lovemaking. " Lestat whispers quietly. "I'm afraid your blood supply has run out, we're going to need more. I'll arrange it as soon as possible."

Lestat gently holds Louis' head and presses a glass, filled with animal blood, to his lips. "Have some, Mon Cher."

Louis swallows the blood carefully, with his eyes closed, almost asleep, only Lestat's hand preventing him from choking on the blood. Soon after he feeds, Louis melts into the mattress, stretching out his limbs, he sighs and yawns. "Lestat? Will you lie down with me?" he mutters, his voice completely used up.

Lestat's arms are quickly around his waist, his chest against his back, he inhales against the back of Louis' neck and kisses his shoulder. "Rest, Louis. I'm not going anywhere, Mon Cher."

And Louis knows that he really means it.

 

Notes:

Kudos and comments are very appreciated!