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“You came in late on the chorus, and you were a little flat there at the end,” Louis says the moment Lestat comes backstage, the crowd screaming on the other side of the curtain for an encore. He hands Lestat a towel to wipe the sweat from his face and then tosses him a fresh blood bag with a grin. “You’ve gotta pay attention to the band and not me, everyone’s gonna start to think you’re distracted or somethin’.”
Lestat rolls his eyes, scoffs, and rips the corner of the bag open, blood spilling out and onto his fingers. Messy like usual, Louis thinks fondly, watching as Lestat drains half the bag in one go and ends up with a dribble of red down his chin as he drinks. It slowly rolls down his throat, and Louis can’t resist tracking its movement, watching as it stains Lestat’s skin before soaking into the collar of his sheer black top.
“It is not easy knowing you’re here waiting for me,” Lestat replies, smirking at Louis. He wraps his free arm around Louis’ back and bends down to kiss him, leaving a sticky-wet kiss behind his ear. “Every time I see you waiting backstage I am so overcome with desire—“
Louis groans and tries to push Lestat off of him, but Lestat won’t let go. Chuckling, he keeps Louis pinned to his chest and kisses up the length of his neck. Louis sighs, resigned to his fate, and loops his arms around Lestat’s shoulders, one hand cupping the nape of his neck.
“It’s what you’re wearing tonight, Louis,” Lestat murmurs in Louis’ ear. The hand at Louis’ back wanders down his spine, nails catching in Louis’ threadbare tour t-shirt. He tucks his hand under the hem, fingertips grazing the dip of Louis’ spine, palm hot on Louis’ skin; then he wanders lower, curling his palm over the curve of Louis’ ass.
Sharp teeth graze his earlobe and Louis hisses, “Les, not here.” Lestat gets a handful and squeezes anyway, grinning against Louis’ temple when his hips jerk in response. Louis slides a hand down Lestat’s chest, gives him a few pats, and gently pushes him back a step. “I said not here,” he repeats firmly, though he’s breathing a little harder than before.
“Louis, you wound me,” Lestat whines, but does as he’s told and takes another step backwards, hand reluctantly falling to his side. He watches Louis closely as he finishes the blood bag, gaze hot as he rakes his eyes down Louis’ form in one quick flick down then back up. Louis preens from the attention; he knows he looks good in his TVL tour tee and jeans, a pair that Lestat has said before makes his ass look incredible.
“You still have an encore to perform,” Louis reminds him, smiling, and leans in to wipe the blood away from Lestat’s chin with his thumb. He sucks it into his mouth, licking the droplet away, eyes boring into Lestat’s in a silent promise of later. “Finish your snack, the fans are waiting.”
Huffing, Lestat tosses the empty bag into the bin off to the side and adjusts the monitor in his ear. He watches Louis the entire time he’s preparing to go back on stage, luminescent blue eyes locked onto Louis’ green, heart pumping the fresh blood through his veins so fast Louis can hear it. There’s a slight apprehension there, in his gaze; not surprising given how recently they reacquainted themselves.
“You’ll be waiting for me?” Lestat asks, feigning nonchalance as he gets into Louis’ space again and lays a hand on his waist, thumb brushing Louis’ hip just above the waistband of his jeans. Before Louis would’ve shrugged and answered with a flippant little maybe, a slight smirk, just to irritate Lestat, get his temper flaring. But now–
“I’ll be waiting,” Louis replies, then catches Lestat’s chin between his thumb and index finger and kisses him softly. After a moment he lets Lestat go and squeezes the hand on his waist. “In your dressing room, alright? Don’t take too long.”
Lestat nods, squeezes Louis’ waist briefly, then turns and heads for the stairs leading onto the stage. Louis watches as he rolls his shoulders and straightens his spine, shifting from casual and relaxed to tall and imposing. That almost imperceptible change from just Lestat to The Vampire Lestat has Louis smiling. The crowd screams even louder when he slinks onto the stage, and Louis chuckles, eyes rolling. He’ll be on a high for the rest of the night with the crowd screaming like that.
As Lestat starts speaking to the chorus of screaming fangirls, Louis makes himself scarce. The crew is already hard at work readying to pack up for the night, so they don’t see him disappear behind the curtains and make his way down the hallway to Lestat’s dressing room. He’s quiet about it; doesn’t want to draw attention to himself as he slips inside the dark room and shuts the door behind him.
He can just make out the beginning of the encore, Lestat’s voice ringing clear above the rest of the noise, and smiles as he makes himself busy.
*
Twenty minutes later, standing at the vanity and fiddling with an assortment of expensive French hair products, Louis hears familiar footsteps racing down the hallway. The door opens after a few seconds, a burst of noise interrupting the quiet of the dressing room, then just as quickly dissipating when the door shuts.
“Lock the door,” Louis says without turning around. He sets down some fancy glass bottle of perfume, makes sure everything is just as Lestat left it. A soft laugh followed by the sound of the door locking, and then Lestat is taking the few steps across the room and pressing his front along Louis’ backside, sighing in contentment like he missed being in Louis’ presence. He’s warm from all the exertion and fresh blood pumping through his veins. “You eat again?”
Lestat nods, buries his face in Louis’ neck, lips attaching to Louis’ pulse point. Louis tilts his head to the side, eyes fluttering shut, and reaches behind him to thread his fingers in Lestat’s hair and hold him in place. Lestat groans softly, fangs extending for a brief moment, and smooths both hands down Louis’ ribs to his hips.
“I’ve thought of only you, all night long, my Saint Louis,” Lestat murmurs as he kisses his way up the side of Louis’ neck to his ear. He scrapes the point of a fang along the curve of it, and Louis moans, shuddering. “I’ve missed you, mon cher.”
“You’ve seen me every night the last two weeks,” Louis breathes, tugging at Lestat’s hair.
“It is not enough.” Lestat slides his right hand underneath Louis’ tour shirt and flattens his palm on his stomach, nails scritching at his skin just to feel him shudder again. Louis moans and lets his head fall onto Lestat’s shoulder. “I need you always, I never want to be parted from you again.”
His voice whispers in Louis’ ear, low and melodic and thick with emotion, hand slipping lower and then further. He thumbs open Louis’ jeans, slowly slides down the zipper, and curls his hand over the bulge at the front, moaning in Louis’ ear as he does. Louis’ hips jerk and his eyes squeeze shut, cock twitching as Lestat cups him.
“Do you hear me, Louis?” Lestat asks as he starts up a slow grind against Louis’ dick with the heel of his palm. The friction from his hand and the rough denim of his jeans has Louis whining and pressing back into Lestat’s crotch.
“Y-yeah, I hear you,” Louis responds. He grabs Lestat’s hand and holds it in place so he can rut against it. He’s so hard already, since Lestat kissed him backstage and told him how much he was desired.
Lestat mouths at the curve of Louis’ throat as Louis rocks into his hand, grip around his wrist tight. But it doesn’t last long before Lestat is slipping his hand inside Louis’ jeans and–
“Louis!” Lestat gasps, eyes widening at Louis in the vanity mirror. Louis grins back at him and rolls his hips into Lestat’s slack hand, pressing his dick into Lestat’s palm. “What have you done, Louis!”
Lestat pulls his hand free and takes two steps backwards. Then he grasps the waistband of Louis’ jeans and shoves them down, revealing exactly what Louis is wearing: a simple pair of white lace panties. He goes to his knees, the sudden movement jostling Louis and making him laugh at Lestat’s eagerness, and takes Louis’ jeans with him until Louis can hastily kick them off with his shoes.
For a moment Lestat just sits there and stares. The panties sit low on Louis’ hips, the band wide and tapering into a V at the back. The material cups Louis’ cheeks just right and Lestat can’t resist; he spreads his hands wide on Louis’ ass and traces the edges of the panties with his thumbs, letting out a delighted laugh as he watches Louis’ cheeks bounce in the lace when he lets go. With a low groan he kisses Louis’ lower back above the waistband. Then he’s grabbing Louis by the hips and spinning him.
Louis’s lower back hits the edge of the vanity, and he gasps, moaning softly, hands grabbing onto the surface as glass bottles rattle from the force of it.
“Louis, you-you fiend–” Lestat moans, glancing up at Louis then to his crotch. The sheer white lace clings to Louis like a second skin. And his cock–the material just barely contains his balls, his dick a hard line straining to the waistband of the panties. He’s wet at the tip, pre-come dampening the lace and leaving it nearly invisible where it sticks to Louis’ skin. Lestat leans in and Louis bites his bottom lip, watching Lestat’s face as he inhales.
“All this for me?” he murmurs, lips brushing Louis’ cock through the panties. Louis’ hips jerk. Unable to resist, Lestat licks a broad stripe up Louis’ length, tongue rough and catching on the wet lace. He groans as he takes the head into his mouth, suckling at the material like he does Louis’ wrist on occasion. A burst of pre-come dribbles out and soaks the panties even more. He buries his face in Louis’ crotch and inhales again, Louis shuddering above him.
“Lestat–” Louis groans, a hand landing on top of Lestat’s head and burying in his hair. Louis pushes his hips forward, rubbing his dick on Lestat’s parted lips, pleased when Lestat starts mouthing at him through the panties. He works his way from the crown down the underside, Louis’ cock pulsing with want with every sucking kiss and lick Lestat leaves.
Lestat moans as he drags the flat of his tongue from Louis’ balls to his cockhead again, then curls his tongue around it and sucks at the newly wet material. Louis’ hips jerk again and he has to yank on Lestat’s hair to pull him off. He’s panting as he stares into Lestat’s blown pupils, fingers curling tight enough in his hair it has to be painful.
“You gon’ fuck me or sit here and play with me?” Louis asks in a breathy voice. Lestat grins, nails poking into Louis’ thighs where he pins him against the vanity.
Lestat uses his hold on Louis to turn him around, tops of his thighs pressing into the edge of the vanity. He pushes at Louis’ lower back until Louis gets the hint and bends forward, coming to rest on his hands. Then he waits, impatiently, feeling Lestat’s breath on the backs of his thighs; the fine hairs there stand on end and he shivers. Both big palms smooth up his inner thighs, over his ass, his hips, down his outer thighs, Lestat humming as he knocks Louis’ legs apart.
“Lestat–” Louis starts, only to be interrupted by Lestat’s nail hooking in the panties and pulling them to the side over one cheek, exposing his hole to the cool air of the dressing room. Louis’ eyebrows scrunch and his cock twitches in anticipation. The panties get tucked off to the side and Lestat grabs him by the waist and tilts Louis’ hips back even more, thumbs spreading his cheeks.
Louis moans high and loud at the first touch of Lestat’s tongue on his hole, the feeling of his thumbs holding Louis open. He buries his face between Louis’ cheeks and Louis’ mouth falls open as Lestat swipes his tongue across the fluttering opening, not stopping until he’s reached the top of Louis’ crack. It’s obscene, filthy, he both hates and loves when Lestat does that, but he curses anyway and rocks back onto Lestat’s tongue. He holds onto the tabletop so hard his nails dig furrows into the wood as Lestat works him open with firm, intentional swipes.
Bursts of noise catch his attention as the crew walks past the dressing room, and for a moment Louis flinches, afraid they’d been caught, but then Lestat bites him on the ass and he jerks, moaning. He huffs and reaches back, grabbing Lestat by the hair and tugging hard until he finally lets go. He grins up at Louis, fangs retracting, the dim lighting of the room glinting off of them. He could see the faintest hint of blood on them.
Lestat hums as he presses a kiss to each of Louis’ ass cheeks, one to the bottom of his spine. Louis clutches at the vanity tabletop and rocks backwards into Lestat’s mouth, moaning out a soft, “Please, Lestat.” He knows Lestat won’t be able to resist, and he can’t. Lestat grabs the hem of Louis’ shirt and tugs it upwards as he stands, Louis raising his arms automatically so Lestat can pull the shirt over his head and arms. It lands somewhere on the floor.
“You want me to fuck you, Louis?” Lestat murmurs in his ear, his front pressing all along Louis’ back. Louis nods and tips his head onto Lestat’s shoulder, mouthing at his jaw and reaching for one of his hands, trying to get Lestat to touch him in any way he could. A sharp nail traces the waistband of Louis’ panties, but Lestat doesn’t touch his cock.
Instead he reaches around Louis and knocks the lid off of an ornate glass container. It’s small, a gold cursive LDL engraved into the side, over the top and fancy just like Lestat likes it. Louis huffs, lips tilting in a smile. Lube; fragrant and slick as Lestat dips his first two fingers into the thick substance. Louis breathes in deep, the faint smell of jasmine assaulting his senses, making his cock twitch in anticipation.
Lestat reaches between Louis’ cheeks and his fingers sink in easily, Louis gasping and moaning and arching his hips back into Lestat’s touch. He whines when the fingers curl and rub at his prostate, drag back out slowly before pushing back in in one smooth glide, over and over again. He grips the edge of the vanity and sucks in a breath, eyes wide on the mirror as Lestat takes him apart with just his fingers. He presses kisses to Louis’ cheeks, the top of his spine, grazes his teeth across the junction of Louis’ neck and shoulder.
His fingers pump and twist inside of Louis expertly, rubbing at his walls and teasing at his prostate until Louis is near sobbing with how badly he needs to be fucked. Needs Lestat. Lestat slips his fingers free and Louis groans in protest, and then he pushes in three with a hum vibrating against Louis’ shoulder. His cock jerks in the confines of the lace, the panties soaked through with pre-come and barely containing his erection. Louis cups his hand over the bulge, moaning at his own touch, and circles his thumb around the head poking over the waistband. He can easily come like this; Lestat’s fingers inside him, thumb rubbing at his leaking slit, Lestat’s teeth scraping on his skin.
“Lestat–” Louis snaps, overcome with need. A desperate need for Lestat in him, taking him, overwhelming all his senses. He whines when Lestat bats his hand away from his dick.
“Hush, Louis, I’ve got you, mon cher,” Lestat murmurs as he pulls his fingers free and kisses the nape of Louis’ neck. His skin is covered in a fine sheen of sweat, and he shudders at the cool touch of Lestat’s lips. Lestat pushes between his shoulder blades until Louis gets the hint and goes down to his forearms on the vanity, hips tilting back in invitation, pleased when Lestat huffs out a little breathy moan. He rests there listening as Lestat unbuttons and unzips his jeans, struggles out of them with a few curses, the sound of boots and denim thudding to the floor.
Lestat’s cock slips between his cheeks, the head catching on the lace, and Louis’ forehead thunks onto the tabletop. He screws his eyes shut and digs his nails into the lacquered wood, impatient for more.
Then he’s gasping wetly, the first press of Lestat’s cock to his hole leaving him a little breathless. The hand between his shoulder blades keeps him pinned. Lestat hisses out a breath and seats himself to the hilt in one smooth thrust, pelvis tight to Louis’ ass; he feels impossibly big, Louis’ hole snug around him. Louis grunts and blows out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.
“Fuck, my Louis, always so tight for me,” Lestat moans, other hand curling around Louis’ hip and squeezing.
Louis pants into the tabletop, breath fogging the surface, nails digging furrows into the wood as Lestat pulls out halfway after a moment and thrusts back in deep. He does it again, repeats it over and over, slow methodical movements meant to drive Louis insane with need. His cock throbs in the panties, the head slick and leaking, and he moans long and rough when Lestat slides the hand on his hip around to squeeze him through the wet material.
“So wet for me, Louis,” Lestat pants out, thumb swiping across the slit and swirling the pre-come around. Louis chokes out another moan, hips jerking forward into Lestat’s touch. The vanity table rattles, glass bottles clinking together. Another firm swipe and Louis whines. The next thrust is harder than the last, and Louis gasps raggedly, cock twitching out a dribble of come over the edge of the waistband. “Always so wet.”
Louis presses his forehead against the table, eyes squeezing shut. Lestat keeps rubbing his thumb around and around the head, squeezing the shaft, stroking his palm on the sensitive underside, over and over in time with his thrusts until Louis is ready to burst. “Les, please, I’m-fuck me, I’m so close,” he rambles, fangs extending as his release builds and builds, balls drawing up tight and muscles tensing.
Lestat drapes himself over Louis’ back, thrusts coming slower but deeper, hips rolling sensually as he strokes Louis through his panties, twisting around the head on every upstroke; the friction between the rough material and the smoothness of Lestat’s palm drive Louis closer and closer. Cool lips press to his jugular, Lestat hums and Louis feels his fangs extending. Two little pinpricks of pain nicking his skin are all the warning he gets before Lestat is sinking his teeth into Louis with a groan, his hips stutter and Louis seizes, eyes rolling back as Lestat drinks.
He’s coming hard, entire body locking up as he spills over the lace and Lestat’s hand. Lestat drinks in deep pulls, Louis’ orgasm cresting and licking hot up his spine. He barely registers the pulsing of Lestat’s cock inside him, the slickness of his release filling him, too blinded by the intensity of release and Lestat’s fangs in his neck to focus on much else. Hears nothing but the blood rushing through his veins.
It feels as if it lasts for hours; Lestat moaning as Louis’ blood spills into his mouth, Louis’ cock throbbing and still twitching, toes curled on the floor and nails stuck deep in the wooden tabletop of the vanity. But eventually he gasps like he’s coming up for air and sucks in a breath, and Lestat releases him with an obscenely wet sound, blood trickling sluggishly from the bite mark. Louis’ vision swims. He feels weightless, like he’s floating, and groans softly when Lestat laps at the droplets of blood clinging to his skin.
They stay locked like that long after his wound has healed; the room is quiet, the sounds of the crew packing things away outside the door long gone. Just the two of them, breathing in sync, hearts beating in time where Lestat’s chest rests against Louis’ back. Lestat wraps his arms around Louis’ waist and holds him tight, nosing at his sweaty temple and pressing kisses along his hairline and the curve of his ear and across his shoulder. Louis shudders with every pass of his lips.
“We should–” Louis starts, shifting slightly on the vanity. Lestat moans into Louis’ shoulder and shakes his head. “We gotta clean up, get dressed, pack all your shit up.”
Lestat gasps in offense, head jerking away. “It is not shit, Louis!” he protests, glaring at Louis in the mirror. “These are my things.”
“Right, your things,” Louis snorts, wincing as Lestat slips free and steps back two inches. “I’m a mess. I need to–” He’s cut off by Lestat dropping to the floor and spinning him around by the hips. Everything on the vanity that hadn’t already toppled over during their fucking finally falls, clattering loudly. Louis looks down, sees Lestat licking his lips and looking at Louis’ crotch.
The panties are, well, ruined. Soaked through the front with come and spit, the material completely transparent where it clings to Louis’ spent cock and balls, stained beyond repair. Lestat reaches out and takes the waistband at Louis’ hips and slowly pulls, licking his lips again as he frees Louis from the confines of the lace. Louis moans softly under his breath, head falling back between his shoulders in relief.
And then there’s Lestat’s tongue, flat on Louis’ shaft and trailing up to the head. He takes it between his lips and moans, and Louis stutters out a gasp as his cock twitches and spurts one little weak dribble of come. He curses and grabs Lestat by the hair and tugs. But Lestat doesn’t move; he stays on his knees and cleans Louis with his tongue, swirling it around the head and tracing the vein along the side and taking both balls into his mouth to clean them, too.
“Lestat,” Louis groans, tugging at his hair again, harder. Lestat just moans and hikes one of Louis’ legs over his shoulder then buries his face between his legs to lick him there as well. Louis curls over at the feeling, too sensitive too soon after his orgasm, both hands coming to clutch at Lestat’s head as he licks him clean.
Louis is breathless and half-hard by the time Lestat removes himself from between Louis’ thighs. He sits back on his haunches with a grin, lips flushed pink and spit smeared around his mouth and on his chin. Grinning, Louis rubs at the spit on his bottom lip.
“Get up here,” he commands softly, laughing when Lestat is up in a flash and crowding him into the vanity once again. He kisses Louis like he hasn’t in days, arm wrapping around Louis’ waist and hoisting him up to sit on the vanity. Louis winds his legs around Lestat’s waist, rocks his hips and drags his cock on Lestat’s shirt, braces himself on one hand and clutches at Lestat’s neck with the other.
“Louis-” Lestat breathes, hand around his own erection, lining himself up to press into Louis again.
“Yeah, yeah, come on, fuck me again,” Louis moans, burying his face in Lestat’s throat and licking up the sweat rolling to the collar of his shirt, fingers twisting in his hair.
Lestat presses his cockhead to Louis’ hole, clutching Louis’ waist tightly, Louis ready to beg when there’s a hard knock at the door.
“Can you two please separate long enough to get packed up?” a voice calls from the other side. Louis tenses and Lestat is shaking with silent laughter. He pinches Lestat’s shoulder as he unwraps himself from Lestat’s body and drops his legs to the floor.
“Uh, yeah, yeah, we’re comin’!” Louis shouts as he slides off the vanity and shoves at Lestat’s chest. “Shut up and get dressed. I need to borrow a pair of underwear, since mine are ruined.”
Louis doesn’t get far across the room before Lestat is grabbing him around the waist and wrapping him in his arms, holding Louis securely to his chest, lips at his ear. He squeezes Louis gently and kisses his ear, and Louis lets himself relax, eyes fluttering shut as he exhales.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Lestat murmurs. “I love you, Louis.”
Louis hums and nods, lets the words settle warm in his chest but doesn’t say anything.
Not yet.
After a beat of silence he gently pries Lestat’s arms from around his waist and turns to kiss him. Smiles and tucks some hair behind his ear, wipes a little bit of spit from the corner of his mouth, brushes a thumb across his cheek. Lestat turns into the touches and kisses Louis’ palm, eyes locked onto Louis’.
Louis nods again, short and simple but saying more than words can right now. Lestat just smiles.
I love you, too, Louis thinks as he watches Lestat walk off to start grabbing their clothes from the floor, and wishes Lestat could hear it.