the city | inbox

[deathoftheauthor]

USERNAME: @louis Louis de Pointe du Lac The Vampire Chronicles TEXT • AUDIO • VIDEO • ACTION • OVERFLOW

source

Comments

[deathoftheauthor]

( The brush to his knuckles makes Louis shiver and his toes curl in his woolen socks, and when Lestat says that, low and warm and fond, his heart skips in his chest. He lets out a breath of a laugh— )

What prying eyes?

( —and tips his forehead against Lestat's, the bridges of their noses nestled together in an almost-kiss. He's halfway in Lestat's lap now, one leg slung across his in his attempt to turn around enough to kiss him, comfortable, but humming with quiet anticipation now that he's been reminded of the last gift he has to unwrap. He's amused and not trying to hide it, the fingers of his free hand coming to play with the V of Lestat's housecoat, curling inward to lay between the fabric and his chest beneath it.

Playfully: )

It's the first time you've written a suggestive note to me in your own hand, too, you know. All the more reason for me to treasure it.

[perfectdevil]

Hm, good point. I suppose we've stopped letting the world know our innermost feelings. For the time being, at least.

[ Even if Lestat has notes - mental and physical - for the next installment of the tale of his life, he's quite pleased there will at least be some aspects of their life together that can be his alone. He's not sure Louis would let him publish everything.

As Louis' fingers curls against his chest, Lestat moves the hand that isn't wrapped up in the ribbon to run along the lapel of the soft, silk pajamas. His touch is a little firmer than is necessary for someone appreciating fabric, clearly more interested in feeling Louis' chest rise and fall beneath.

He tilts his head, his nose sliding against Louis' until their mouths are a mere breath apart. ]

Oh, let's not call a rabbit a hare, Louis. You know damn well that I could write you something much better than that, given the opportunity.