Flights of Posey
© Lady Dark Rose

Notes: For those of you who've been screaming for it... some L & L slash from me

Disclaimer: Mater owns all. I'm just playing with the characters for my own amusement, not making any money at it.

Spoilers: None that I can think of, really. Anything is minor and you know it or you wouldn't be reading fan fic.

Thanks to: Karen and Grace for being my sounding boards while writing this

Warning: If the idea of two adult male vampires engaging in sexual acts gives you the squicks, please find another story to read.

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My beautiful, bookish Louis, always with his nose buried in some damned book when I have other things in mind. It must have been something very interesting too; he'd paid me no heed when I strode into our room from my shower nude and lay on our bed, propped on one elbow, cock in hand, watching him as he read.

Does he have any idea just how unspeakably sexy he is, seated in that navy velvet wingback chair, right leg crossed deliciously over the left, foot keeping time with some unheard rhythm as it hangs suspended in the air? Does he know how beautiful a thing it is that his facial expression changes in response to what it is he reads, as if he has placed himself in the story and is, in his mind, acting out this scene?

I watched him, my hand was still at my cock, stroking it languidly as this lovely vision of Louis filled me with a sense of deeper desire. Too lovely, the way his lips formed a word silently as he read it, his slender fingers toying with a lock of his hair. Ah, oui. How many of you can say that even when reading your lover is entirely enticing?

"Louis, chaton...." I called to him softly, tracing the tip of one finger along the head of my cock. "What is it you read that leaves you so blind to what is happening mere feet from you?"

From the page he read Louis' emerald eyes rose and glanced my direction, a blaze sparking within them as he finally took note that I lay there playing with myself. The breath went out of him sharply as he watched my hand slide up and down the throbbing shaft, his pale pink tongue darting across his lips nervously. I could hear his heart quicken as I let out a small moan of pleasure, continuing to stroke myself, wishing it were his hand doing the work, not mine.

"Ah, mon Dieu!" The book lowered to Louis' lap as the rhythm in which his foot moved increased dramatically. "Nothing so interesting as this," he sighed, gesturing to me.

My lips twitched into something of a smile as I rubbed the palm of my hand over my balls, cupping and bouncing them a bit, letting them roll from side to side. I was too much enjoying the sight of Louis' growing arousal at seeing this.

"Are you sure of that, mon beauté? After all, I've been at this for some time now, and had to actually draw your attention to myself." I made a face at him in jest, as if I was pouting over this slight. "Have you any idea how potentially damaging that could be to the ego of a creature such as myself? That a book should hold your attention more than this?"

Louis dropped his book to the floor beside his chair. "Well, it's true, I've rather been enjoying the words of Monsieur Baudelaire," he purred, his leg uncrossing as he leaned forward in his chair, as if to get a better view of the action happening on the bed. "But I do believe this would hold my interest more."

I slid off the bed and sauntered the few steps that separated me from my Beautiful One, standing over him, caressing his smooth cheek adoringly.

"Always poetry with you, mon ange," I sighed melodramatically.

Louis' looked up at me, a sweetly seductive smile playing over his gorgeous mouth. "And never poetry with you, mon démon," he quipped, hand raising from his lap to stroke his fingertips over my cock. I moaned at this feathery touch from my Louis. The smallest of attentions from him can drive me to utter madness.

Taking his hand in mine, I pulled him to his feet and pressed my face into his neck, loving the scent of the night air that still clung to his hair after he'd been out for his hunt. "Now you know that's not so, chaton." My arms went about his waist as I teased the flesh at his neck with my fangs.  "I enjoy poetry as well as the next creature. I just know that it has a proper time and place." Up under his sweater my hands went, pinching his nipples sharply, and he gave out a little cry of pleasure as I did so. "When your lover lays upon your bed trying to entice you to join him, it is decidedly not the proper time nor place to engage in flights of poesy."

Louis trembled with excitement as my hands slid across his chest and pulled the sweater over his head. Hooking his right heel behind my ankle he drew my right leg between both of his, grinding his rock-hard erection roughly against my thigh. Oh, my darling.... I was unsure just how it was those jeans he wore were still in one piece; his cock was straining the material, fighting to break free of its confines.

"Tell me then, démon," he whispered into my ear, his tongue teasing the lobe mercilessly.  "Just when is the appropriate time or place for such flights?"

For the feline lapping of his sinuous tongue at my ear, I was scarce sure I'd actually be able to form complete thoughts, much less articulate them.

"Poetry, my love, is best reserved to seal the seduction, the coup de grace as it were."

Louis drew back from me, a lovely, though unexpected, peal of velvety laughter issuing from him. "Oh, I beg your pardon. When have you ever used it thusly? I don't believe I can recall the last time you recited anything poetic to me," he teased. "Indeed, I doubt you could easily remember any bit of poetry to recite now!" he retorted, a wicked sparkle in his eyes as his chin jutted toward me as if in challenge.

I arched an eyebrow at him. "Non, chaton? You think not?" He shook his head, biting down on his lower lip to suppress the grin overtaking him, and I slowly pushed him backward so that my body held his pinned against the wall. My lips trailing along his chin and neck, I dropped my voice to a low, provocative purr and let flow a quote I'd been holding onto for just such an occasion. "I love, pale one, your lifted eyebrows bridging twin darkneses of flowing depth...." My fingers wove their way through his raven tresses. "That leaping, running mane...."  I paused, brushing my lips across his ever so softly, feeling his breath against them as he sighed. "The ecstasy that is your trade...."

Louis' lovely body melted against mine as I brought my mouth to his, this time in a much more passionate kiss, our tongues gliding over each other. With a little growl from deep in his throat, he caught my bottom lip between his teeth and nipped it, gathering the droplets of blood that rose to the surface with the tip of his tongue.

"That was most impressive, mon démon," he breathed against my mouth as he kissed me again. "But then, you are nothing if not a never ending surprise to me...."

I chuckled softly as Louis pushed himself off the wall and guided me back to the bed. "I have to keep you on your toes, chaton. Otherwise you'd become horridly bored with me." My fingers flicked open the button closure at his waist and tugged down the zipper, liberating him from the confines of his jeans. The backs of my legs hit the edge of the bed and down I went, wiggling the tight denim down Louis' thighs.

"I've never associated the concept of boredom with you, Lestat," Louis smiled down at me, his fingers tangling in my hair as I pressed soft kisses to his taut belly. "Perhaps when we begin doing things the same way twice, I'll reconsider that opinion."

With gentle pressure, Louis urged my head down toward his groin and I gladly obliged, wrapping my lips about his swollen and throbbing cock, swallowing him whole. He murmured something deliciously perverse in pure, gutter French, always such a shock from Louis, and always all the more delightful. Rocking his hips subtly, he began to slowly fuck my mouth, voicing his complete pleasure as I varied the amount of suction I applied to his organ. My hands, grasping his hips as he thrust, migrated to his tight, sculpted ass, kneading the cheeks firmly, allowing my nails to dig into the supple flesh, and spilling his blood over them. Well slicked as they then were, I slowly worked two fingers into him, probing the snug orifice deeply. Louis shuddered and moaned, his knees becoming weak.

"Ah, mon Dieu, Lestat!" he gasped, fingers tugging at my hair reflexively. His muscles tightened around my fingers and tensed in his thighs as my fangs gashed along the top of his cock, opening twin wounds running the length of him. His blood flowed hotly from these lacerations as his body shuddered, and with a passionate cry he came hard, the bloody issue hitting the back of my throat with a taste distinctly different from that of the blood coming from the wounds.

My arms still about him, I held him steady as his legs gave out from beneath him and he crumpled against me, allowing me to lay him on the bed. Stretching out next to him I claimed his mouth, sharing with him the last bit of his blood that coated my tongue, and he whimpered softly for it. Gently I stroked my hand across his belly, tracing random patterns with the tips of my fingers as I kissed him, whispering to him all the while and watching him with hooded eyes.

"Louis... mon amoureux. Do you know how I love the way your silken skin feels beneath my fingers, or how much I love you? Can I ever adequately express the depth of my feelings for you?"

His hands rose to cup my face, thumbs caressing their way across my cheeks. "But you do express it, mon coeur. Perhaps not so well with words, but it's true what they say, Lestat. Actions can speak volumes."

With a coy smile, the thumb of his right hand traced the contours of my lips as his left hand slid over my hip, his fingers curling around my cock and grasping it tightly. "And speaking of actions, I can think of one you could take now that truly would say much to me...."

Grinning, I moved over him, supporting my weight on my hands at either side of his shoulders. "And when have I ever been one to refuse you, my dark angel?" My knees urged Louis' thighs apart as I lowered myself to brush my lips teasingly over his.

"It has indeed been a rare thing, Lestat," he conceded. "A fact about which I am very happy."

My Beautiful One lowered his eyes and watched as he drew a nail down the pale blue path of a vein running the length of my cock, slicing it open with the precision of a scalpel. As the blood trickled along this slash, his fingers smeared the crimson fluid over the entire surface of the shaft and held me tightly as he raised his hips and guided me into his body. Ah, how can I put into words the luscious feel of taking him, how wonderfully tight he is and how lovely the contractions of those powerful muscles deep within him are as they squeeze around me?

I began to move in him, settling into the rhythm Louis so loves, thrusts alternating from deep and gentle to short and strong. His response was a deep, throaty growl, back arching, arms flung out to the sides, clutching at the sheet beneath him until the fine satin shredded to ribbons.

Louis murmured in breathless pants, his lips curling back to reveal his fangs. "Ah, oui... donne moi tous que tu as, mon amour." His hands released the sheet and moved to my shoulders, drawing me down tightly against him, and I could feel him against my belly, growing stiff once more.

When he'd asked for everything I had, I deepened my strokes as well, but this was Louis way of saying that he wanted my throat, my blood. And as I've already said, I've never been one to deny Louis what he wants....

Balancing on one hand long enough to gather my hair away from my neck, I watched as Louis' eyes glowed with anticipation at the very thought of drinking from me. Such a turn on, that degree of longing.

"Oui, mon bébé, mon cher amour...."

His tongue traveled across my neck, seeking the ideal point for his strike. Having found it, based upon whatever criteria Louis uses for such things, his fangs stabbed into me and I cried out for the pure pleasure of the sting. As he drew the first deep gulp, I sank my teeth into his shoulder roughly, opening my mouth wide to catch gush of blood that sprang forth as a fountain. Mmm. How sweet and rich and fiery this nectar. This, having him in my arms, our bodies pressed against each other, the blood circulating between us as if we were indeed the one being we become in the act of lovemaking, was all I would ever need to be blissfully happy for all eternity.

Blood sharing is the highest act of intimacy amongst our kind, but it becomes something even deeper when experienced by maker and fledgling, for this is the only moment when the two may know what the other is thinking, feeling. Louis was correct when he said that I do not express my love for him as eloquently as I'd like. So, when we are bound in this fashion, I seize the opportunity to show him fully what is in my heart. I filled my mind with every beautiful memory we'd shared over the nearly two hundred and fifty years we've been together (though yes, more of that time was sadly spent apart than together...). Our first kiss. The first time we'd actually made love. Not the first time he'd reluctantly consented to what his then provincial sensibilities considered an act of depraved perversion, but the first time when he'd truly surrendered himself to the love we shared.

Seeing all of this, Louis moaned and sighed with pure contentment as he drank, dissolving finally into dulcet purring. For his own part, he chose to share with me these same memories, the feelings they gave him, the sense of wonder for our having finally found a true and lasting happiness together pervading each scene.

In having fallen into the swoon, a sensation more powerful than any physical orgasm, we both seemed to have missed the fact that I had indeed came already, though we remained locked together, body and soul as we took our final draughts of blood and simply held each other.

We lay together afterwards wrapped in the quiet of the room, the sounds from the Quarter unable to touch us in the little world we've created. Not a word passed between us as we cuddled, enjoying the afterglow. What word could have adequately stated all that had been declared within our swoon?

~ FIN ~