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Maybe I do. I can feel our bond here, better than before.

[ like an arrow notched and released, pulling him in one direction. ]

But if it's a hunt you want, you'd better be up for the chase.

That may also have to do with the fact that we're in closer proximity to each other than we have been in years.

How does the saying go again? Don't threaten me with a good time, cheri.

Could be I'm listening a little better, too.

But if it's a good time you're after...

[ louis makes his way from their bedroom, hungry and wanting in more ways than one. he listens first, letting the pull of their immortal bond guide him. he knows, too, lestat's usual haunts and so when he arrives at the piano bar, he leans into the doorway and listens first.

he must look a little unhinged - no shirt, in nothing but black joggers that he often wears to bed or to lounge in. he pads up to him, barefooted and slow, like stalking prey before he gets his arms around lestat's neck and shoulders, burying his face against his ear, his hair. ]

You didn't even try to go running, did you?

Edited 2025-05-01 04:23 (UTC)

[ The piano bar, for the moment, is closed given the hour, though that's not the case for Lestat, who tends to haunt the space even when he's not expected to perform for any patrons, idling or otherwise. What constitutes as late is relative for him too, as one who largely seeks his rest during the day, and needs even less sleep than he did in the wake of first being turned.

As Louis fills the doorway, Lestat's shoulders twitch with new awareness, but he's still attempting to work out the bridge on this particular song, fingers idly trilling over the keys. There's no hitch in his playing, although he halts entirely when Louis grabs him from behind, wrapping him up in a definitive embrace; Lestat's hands rise from the piano to cup over Louis' arms, head tipping slightly to bare the line of his throat once they're tucked close together. ]

Why would I? This may come as a bit of a shock to you, but I wanted to be caught.

[ He seizes hold of one of Louis' hands and brings it to his lips, smacking a kiss there, before swiveling on the piano bench so they can face one another head-on, drawing Louis in to stand between the spread of his knees. ]

You are a sight to lure any man in, Louis. [ When he sways forward, pressing his face against the visible exposure of abdomen, above the waistband of Louis' joggers, he presses his lips to skin much more tenderly. ] And already at the perfect angle for me to properly worship you.

Funny, never would have guessed.

[ but lestat bares his throat to him and louis nuzzles his face in against it, hungry and wanting, if the barest scrape of fangs says anything. but their positions are changed and louis leans closer, filling the space between lestat's thighs. he slides his fingers into lestat's hair, sighing softly at the kisses against his skin. ]

That why you made me come chase you here? [ he gives lestat's hair a gentle tug before he leans down to kiss the other vampire, sweet but with the bite of something else behind it. want, desire - all open and bared for the other vampire. ]

Guess I fell for your trap instead.

There may very well come a night when we orchestrate ourselves a formal hunt.

[ But right now, with Louis looking as utterly delectable as he is, already halfway-clothed and well on his way to being fully nude — at least if Lestat has his way — there seems little point in diverting towards the grounds or even another room. ]

Is it a trap if you saw it first?

[ There's no question that as of this moment, he has Louis right where he wants him, but the soft groan those tugging fingers elicit makes Lestat want to drop to his knees right here, so that Louis can wield that same grip while he's being swallowed down. He doesn't repress the urge once he has it, slowly slipping off the bench and onto the floor, his own bare feet tucking behind him as he reaches for the drawstring ties on Louis' joggers. ]

Let me make it up to you. For keeping you waiting. [ When his gaze lifts, there's new heat in it but also familiar desire, in being able to spontaneously indulge together like they once had. ]

Formal hunt? You gonna get me all dressed up just to make me chase you?

[ but who can he even scold when he looks down and lestat is on his knees before him, pretty and perfect and alluring with the backdrop of the piano behind him. louis' eyes alight with interest, his heart rate stutters.

he slides his hands down over his love's hands, wanting the contact and wanting to help. he pulls at the tie, tugs at his own waistband to let the fabric slide down his hips. he's not wearing underwear, having been ready for lestat back in bed. it takes little time for his fingers to slide back into golden hair, scratching at his scalp. ]

You look good like that.

Or the reverse, at your bidding.

[ What would be the point in clothes, his gaze says, when Louis would ultimately rip all of them off of him anyway? But as pleasant a diversion as that would undoubtedly be — an escape, as well, from constantly thinking about being trapped here — Lestat is content precisely where he is, on his knees, looking up at Louis with keen, open adoration in his gaze, particularly once those joggers are loosened and slip down. ]

You're perfect.

[ The dark gift preserves them all in the height of their youth, like an insect preserved in amber — forever to remain perfect and untarnished. But there's something about Louis right now, here, in this moment, emboldened, empowered, quiet confidence infused in every part of his being that makes him that much more alluring — and Lestat has never been so ready to succumb to what compels him.

He doesn't immediately move to take Louis' cock in his mouth, though; instead, he kisses and licks all around it, over the tops of Louis' thighs, the slight musculature of his hips, the subtle divots of his pelvic lines that offer a clear invitation to what he wants to make bob heavy and thick in anticipation. He's mapping Louis again with his lips, reminding himself of the contours of his lover's body; there's no possibility of discomfort, even with his knees digging into the polished wood floor, but he's also not intending torment. He just wants Louis' gaze on him when he ultimately parts lips over the tip of his cock, slowly enveloping before offering a pronounced, obscenely loud suck. ]

[ louis' body prickles with want as lestat's mouth makes a map of his body, committing it to memory. he can't help but sway softly into each press of tongue and lips, head falling back for a moment to enjoy the sensation. he wants lestat and there's no doubt that his aching cock shows it, twitching when lestat comes so close but dances away. teasing little minx. ]

You talkin' about yourself down there again?

[ he huffs a laugh, smoothing lestat's hair back from his face, tangling his fingers in the thick waves just as he feels wet, hot heat envelop him. he groans, green eyes blowing out as he looks down at his lover, mouth full and heavy with him. his fingers tighten in his hair, nails pricking at his scalp, his whole body taught with tension at the sudden, lewd pleasure of it. ]

You look so good. Feel so good.

Mm.

[ Louis would come up with a retort like that when his mouth is otherwise occupied, forcing Lestat into the brief internal debate about whether he should interrupt himself, pulling away from Louis in the process, to offer a comeback of his own. It seems less sensible, though, when he already has Louis thick and throbbing on his tongue, and mustering words would risk diverting him further.

He chooses to bask in this instead — Louis' fingers, threading through his hair, until pointed nails subtly dig into his scalp. There's no breaking of skin, no spilling of blood, but the pleasurable addition of pain elicits a groan that ends up muffled around Louis' shaft, makes Lestat's cock twitch against the confines of his own trousers.

The way he's applying himself to sucking Louis off should make it perfectly clear that he's not rushing this; it doesn't matter that they're in the bar, on the stage itself. He'd do the same even if they had a spotlight on them and an enraptured audience filling every seat. There's no room for shame, no room for hesitation — not when he'd spent so many long nights in isolation craving something exactly like this. He groans again, slipping a hand down to grind the heel of his palm against his own cock, and doubles his efforts with a lewd, wet, slow rhythm. ]

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