Immortal Kiss
By Kabuki
(completed) July 2000

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Disclaimer: Louis and Lestat belong to Mater. The story concept is my idea. I can't remember if I posted this before, so just to be sure here it is! Shows what happens when I have to figure out what the heck I've been writing, hmm?
Spoilers: All just to be safe.
Description: L/L lemon spec. Enjoy!
Comments: Yes. Please.
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The stars are a magnificent spectacle this night, seeming to shine all the brighter for the swollen moon hanging low in the night sky over the roofline of a New Orleans night. The air is pregnant with humidity, and one could easily envision stealthy creatures moving unnoticed through the pools of dark in the more emptied sectors, the silvery light only catching the occasional flash of ivory teeth, smooth flesh, or glimmering hair. Somewhere in this city, Lestat hunts his prey. Somewhere a mortal dies in a powerful swoon of ecstasy. A smile flashes across my face for a moment. Ah yes, the ecstasy. That I could well understand as a reaction to Lestat's immortal kiss.

A sensation of strong arms gently encircling my waist and warm breath on my cheek is the only warning I am given of the intruder. No need to panic though. The identity of the fellow was already evident. "Lestat... "

My lover speaks no words, only chuckles deeply as he places little kisses, each more sensuous than its predecessor, along my shoulder and toward the pale expanse of throat. His voice, his very presence surrounds me bidding my surrender. His arms tighten around me, caressing my torso and legs, pulling backward and tracing the length of my spine down to my buttocks then up again to my neck.

I turn to meet his lusty expression. His eyes are darkened with desire and the pilfered blood of a mortal pulsing fresh in his veins warms his flesh. I catch his hands and kiss them, one after the other before deliberately kissing his silken lips. He makes a small sound of protest, then melts as I knew he would. It is I who holds him now, cradling his powerful body in my arms as I had hoped to do for so long in the past. Those long years of longing; I find myself still making up for that time in our lives as does he I'm certain.

It is he who pulls back first, his eyes still clouded with desire as he smiles to me. "My aren't we in a rare mood tonight, Louis."

I know what he refers to -- our earlier argument over some trifle. My uncharacteristically harsh words, touching on things I couldn't possibly understand about his past and calling him things I shouldn't have. I had hurt him, but he had known I wouldn't say such things unless he had hurt me too. "You can be cruel, Lestat, but so can I. I apologize for my --"

His mouth is on mine suddenly, urgent and loving. "Oh, my beautiful lover. No apology is necessary. I know. I'm sorry too."

We hold each other closely, not as lovers so much as friends for the moment. His heartbeat is clearly audible in the small room, and I hold him all the closer for it's hurried pace. "Your heart is beating so fast!"

He sighed, running his fingers languidly through my hair. "My passions rage out of control. You know that."

I nod. "You're notorious for that."

"Ah, my fragile reputation!" He throws his head back, golden waves spilling backward in a shimmering flood against his shoulders and he laughs. "I wouldn't want to disappoint you."

He bends with the intention of nuzzling my throat, but I move away from him with little difficulty. I cast him a brief glance, allowing a smile to play upon my lips as I subtly taunt the blonde demon. "Ah, but monsieur what if I found your passions far too tame for my own purposes? I should be disappointed regardless of your fame."

Lestat approaches slowly, his eyes glinting with amusement and desire as he creeps closer to me. "You've never complained before. Why start now?" His voice is little more than a soft purr given meaning. I feel my resolve weakening as he approaches, his eyes mesmerizing me with their beauty and intensity. "I have not yet begun to seduce you, my fragile one."

I am in his arms before I realize it, and his mouth is on mine in a hungry kiss. Our mouths duel briefly, playfully, before I pull back and sink my fangs into his throat. He is caught off guard, only uttering a short gasp before releasing the air in his lungs as a lusty hiss; his body melting against mine in is passion. I clutch his body, running my fingers over the material that binds his muscular back and arms before pulling him to me tightly. He makes a small sound of desperation in the back of his throat, and sighs my name when I begin to knead the muscles of his lower back as I inch closer to his preternaturally firm buttocks. "Gods, Louis, don't torture me now."

I laugh softly, releasing his artery and lapping up the excess blood. His hands are in my hair, his mouth slack with the pleasure, and his eyes heavy lidded. I kiss him, letting him taste of his own essence, driving him insane. Our eyes meet and I step back, letting him nearly topple before I catch him. "Don't fall, Lestat. Clumsy actors are quite unbecoming."

He is breathless, but still manages to speak in a hushed voice. "I should think ... that teasing bourgeois men ... are far less ... becoming, Louis."

I chuckle, taking a seat on a convenient couch as he recovers beside me. He is so beautiful, my demonic maker. His hair is shimmering still, yet near his face the blood-sweat has tinted and matted a few strands to his face. His head is a familiar, comforting weight upon my shoulder, my arm casually draped around behind him to rest on his thigh. He won't take long to recover, very little time in fact, and I almost wonder what is taking so long. Why hasn't he sat up yet? My thoughts naturally block my ability to see the obvious. Lestat has used the distraction to slip one hand behind my head and begin his own ministrations, kissing my shoulder and making his way to the large vein in my neck. By the time I realize what is happening, I no longer am concerned and find myself gladly giving in to his blood kiss. His suckling is gentle, each draught caressing my soul with the sensuality of the rhythm. He drinks in time to my heartbeat, and I hold him close, whispering his name as the swoon encloses me and leaves me oblivious to all else.

He is straddling me now, his suckling more intense as he begins to rock with the rhythm he has created. I use the opportunity to rear up and sink my own fangs into his throat. He is startled but I do not release my grip, and soon we are floating in an endless barrage of sensation, our thoughts reaching each other with ease now. Our individual thoughts become joined, as though emanating from one soul instead of two. We communicate in this way, as our bodies spiral towards the eventuality of release. Love you. Love you too. I don't want it to end, mon Louis. I know. Nor I. I wish we could remain linked, body and mind; heart and soul. I need you... put your arms around me. I need to feel you against me. I know, my love. I know.

When the climax is reached, we both pull back with the force of it. Our souls are singing as the pleasure peak is obtained, and when we fall back atop each other in the swoon, there is the comfort of our individual heartbeats and the safety found in immortally strong arms.

I don't remember Lestat moving me to our bed, nor his securing the house and checking the alarm systems. All I know is that as I fall into my death sleep, his lips pressed against my cheek and his face nuzzled my throat. He whispers something, some endearment most likely, but the sleep claims me and I know nothing until dusk comes once more.


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"I want to die while you love me,
While yet you hold me fair,
While laughter lies upon my lips,
And lights are in my hair."

-- Georgia Douglas Johnson






~ Fin ~