( Louis' pulse quickens when Lestat's hands find their way to his waist, the taut muscles of his stomach tensing at the contact. He lets out a slow breath, lightheaded again, bracing himself against the sink and counter behind him with one hand and keeping the other in Lestat's hair, wrist resting upon the junction of his neck and shoulder, as if that is just as necessary to maintain his balance.
He doesn't know how to categorize this feeling — nervousness, shyness, anticipation? None of them quite seem to fit. Perhaps just an intense awareness, the same as Lestat's touch to his wound had been intense, all of his senses focused upon one singular point of contact. How childish to be focused on such a thing now, of all times.
But then, is it...? They'd shared blood, after all, and Lestat had quite possibly saved his life. Wouldn't humans be thinking of intimacy at a time like this? Don't shared near-death experiences quicken something in the soul? )
Ah... well. ( He says, quiet and low, like he's admitting a secret. ) It wouldn't be entirely selfish on my part, you see.
( Louis' gaze lowers to the pulse in Lestat's throat, long enough to be meaningful, before returning to his face. )
no subject
He doesn't know how to categorize this feeling — nervousness, shyness, anticipation? None of them quite seem to fit. Perhaps just an intense awareness, the same as Lestat's touch to his wound had been intense, all of his senses focused upon one singular point of contact. How childish to be focused on such a thing now, of all times.
But then, is it...? They'd shared blood, after all, and Lestat had quite possibly saved his life. Wouldn't humans be thinking of intimacy at a time like this? Don't shared near-death experiences quicken something in the soul? )
Ah... well. ( He says, quiet and low, like he's admitting a secret. ) It wouldn't be entirely selfish on my part, you see.
( Louis' gaze lowers to the pulse in Lestat's throat, long enough to be meaningful, before returning to his face. )
I believe you understand.