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ARCANE PRACTICES - A Tweener Spec: Year 1 (Author Mick)
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I joined Louis in his bedroom last night. I'm afraid I insisted. I
wanted to get rid of the sickroom aspect that hung over it. I know it
was once a place of refuge for Louis, and I wanted it to be so again.
I wanted it to be filled with *good* memories, not bad ones.
 
I had a plan.
 
There was some snuggling and pillow talk going on, Lestat and Louis 
style of course, meaning Louis was fussing about something and I was 
attempting to remove bits and pieces of his clothing. Louis of course, 
had to stop in mid-fuss to ask if clothes removal was really
necessary, and I responded, "No, but it's more fun this way." Louis
kept trying to regain the thread of his thoughts, which was merely
chastising me for rudeness to one of the many "family" members
trooping endlessly through the house, though most of them have,
mercifully, gone away. I was doing a pretty good job of distracting him 
as I was still removing clothing and murmuring, "Um hum... yes Louis," 
and "No I won't ever do that again," in other words not really listening 
at all.
 
I must say the tactic worked rather well, because Louis had to start
the same sentence three times, working his way through many small
gasps and clenchings of teeth. But, being Louis, he made a dogged
attempt at a fourth try. I realized he would never get going if I
left it up to him, so I obligingly made a small gash in my own neck
with the nail of my index finger, and dragged the tip across the
dripping cut. I gently traced the shape of Louis' lips with the
bloody finger, softly tugging the bottom lip down as I pulled it away.
 
At the scent of the blood Louis' emerald eyes darkened, suddenly
resembling not so much the jewel-like leaves of tropical forests, but
rather the still, secret, pools hidden in their depths. Seemingly of
its own volition, the tip of his glistening pink tongue appeared, 
glided across the contours of his upper lip and disappeared. The
bottom lip disappeared after it as it was sucked in and slowly
released, every vestige of blood scraped free as it was dragged against
his upper teeth, catching briefly against the fangs. His eyes
suddenly closed and a small groan escaped him. "Lestat..." he sighed.
 
I started. It was as if the closing of those eyes released me from a
spell. My heart was hammering and I was gasping because, watching him, 
I'd forgotten to breathe. I laughed rather shakily and leaned forward
to kiss him deeply, my tongue probing for traces of my own blood
mingled with the precious taste of Louis. I pulled away, and braced
myself with my arms on either side of him and looked down into those
mysterious pools of green.
 
"Now cher," I whispered hoarsely, "it's time to put those detectible
lips of yours to better use." 
 
I shook back my head, and the thick golden waves of my hair fell back, 
baring my throat and shoulders to his now hungry gaze. Finally,
finally, he reached for me, rising to sink his teeth into my flesh.
 
It was divine rapture to feel his fangs pierce my throat. Even the
memory of it thrills me. I can hardly believe it is this way with us
now.
 
He drew deeply, again and again, until I began to tremble and my arms
could no longer support me. As I collapsed, Louis, suddenly savage in
his lust, flung me over on my back, straddled me, and continued to
feed.
 
As he drained me, my head spun and my heart sang and our thoughts wove
in and around each others. I urged him on. _Yes my love, take it all. 
All that I have is yours. I love you, Louis. Take my blood and be
well._
 
The infusions of my blood speed the healing process and help to
eradicate the outward signs of the trauma so recently visited on him.
I press myself upon him as often as possible (and I do mean that
literally and figuratively), so it will not take decades for him to be
strong and whole again. If anyone knows the long road to recovery, it
is I, and I mean to see that Louis' trip down that road is as brief as
possible.
 
When he finally released me, I rested for a moment, gathering my
strength. Now it was time for my little surprise. I propped myself up
on one elbow to better study my flushed and happily lethargic Louis.
 
"So, it is my turn now, is it not?" I asked softly, tracing lazy
circles on his now bare chest.
 
"Oui, mon cher," Louis sighed sleepily, "it is, as you say, your
turn." He raised a languid hand to his throat, preparing to open a
gash for for my pleasure, but I captured the hand and, instead, placed
a kiss on the palm. Stroking my face with the captured hand I nipped
and sucked at the delectable fingers, and murmured against them,
trying to hide the devilish grin that kept trying to spread itself
across my face, "Actually, cher, I had something a little different
in mind... trust me, you'll like it."
 
I'm afraid something of the grin must have made it through, because
Louis looked a little alarmed at my expression. I buried my face in
his neck and took my time, nibbling my way down the largest vein, now
full and pulsing with my blood. I was careful not to break the skin.
Oh no, not yet.
 
I took a leisurely path across his collarbone and down the alabaster
skin of his chest, pausing briefly to dip my tongue into the dark
secret place of his navel. He moaned and whispered to me in a choked
voice, "Whu...what are you doing?" "Nothing special," I breathed
against the silky skin of his stomach, my warm breath drifting across
the wet trails I'd left on my journey down his body. I smiled in
delight as he shivered at the sensation.

I continued on my way, seeking lower still, until I found the perfect
spot. "Do you know," I whispered against the warm satin of his thigh,
"there's a very large vein right *here*." And before he could answer,
I buried my face in the juncture where the hip and pelvis meet on the
inside of the thigh, and sank in my teeth.
 
It's rather like what some of the college boys I've had call
"shotgunning a beer", and I simply opened my throat and let the
fountaining blood poor down it. I had to hold tightly to Louis as he
almost bucked me off, so violent was his reaction at the rapid
draining of blood. It was, in fact, a slightly dangerous thing to do,
as a complete loss of blood could happen very quickly. I let the
stream of blood crash through me for a few seconds, but as my head
started to reel, I slid my finger between my lips and pressed down
with considerable pressure on the bite marks so that the rapid
vampiric healing could close the wound. I gently slid my finger away,
braced for another fountain of blood, and breathed a sigh of relief
as none was forthcoming. The bite had closed properly.
 
I lay there for a while in a happy stupor, sprawled across Louis'
stomach, one of his long legs wrapped around me with the heel of his
foot resting in the small of my back.
 
And then he pulled my hair. It hurt!
 
"So. Tell me, Monsieur de Lioncourt, where did you learn such arcane 
practices?" The tone of his voice was strange, and so I raised my head
to look at him. 
 
He was angry! Angry!
 
For a moment I was at a loss. I couldn't for the life of me make out
what I'd done to make him angry! Then a little thought bloomed at the
back of my mind, and the strangest feeling came over me. I couldn't 
quite believe that what I was thinking might be true, so I determined 
to find out.
 
"Why are you angry, Louis? You didn't like it? If you didn't, I won't
do it again." I waited to see what he would say.
 
"I didn't say I didn't like it," he said huffily, trying to shove me
off of him, "I just asked where you learned it, who taught you to do
that."
 
Ah, and there it was... Who.
 
I pulled myself up until we were eye to eye. "Are you jealous, Louis?"
I couldn't help the pleased expression that spread over my face.
 
He sputtered and denied it and made it painfully obvious that he *was*
jealous of the mysterious person who'd taught me "such arcane
practices" to use his phrase.
 
Surely this was heaven. For Louis to love me enough to feel jealousy,
was something I never dared dream of. But I wouldn't tease him with
it. I wanted the night to be a pleasant memory for him, not for it to
end with angry words; and so I kissed him, effectively silencing him,
for the moment at least.
 
When I drew back finally, he seemed to have forgotten he was angry. I
smiled at him, and stroked his cheek.
 
"You're looking wan again, my dear one. I looks like we shall have to
begin again." I gave him my most engaging smile.
 
"Lestat," he said softly, "don't you think you've had enough for one
night?"
 
"Enough?" I said. "I don't believe I'm familiar with that word. You 
read a lot, explain it to me while I nibble on your neck."
 
He laughed, and pulled me down to him, and I knew that this evening at
least, would end on a happy note.
 
Mission accomplished.
 

			       THE END