I still like the idea of a devout religious vampire praying with a rosary and burning it's hands in some kind of masochistic penance for it's sins against nature...
he's the worst man alive he's the love of my life he's covered in blood he's weird about god and he's a lot, he's not perfect, but most importantly he's bisexual
Summary: You and Lestat's tumultuous relationship ended on an explosive note ages ago, but as fate would have it, you reunite one day at one of his concerts, reigniting old passions.
Warnings: NSFW! minors DNI.
a/n: Saw the new trailer and immediately realized I need that and should write this. That's all thanks bye.
w.c: 1,624
You stood cemented to the mosh pit's littered floor, inhaling the surrounding smoke and sweat that wafted through the atmosphere. You watched him in all his glory, blonde hair incandescent courtesy of the stage lights. You hated how entranced you were, how pretty you found him, and how this persona fit him like a glove. You mentally scolded yourself for feeling the way you did right now, because those feelings were what put you in this 60 year old predicament. History was almost threatening to repeat itself and you didn't need that to happen, but deep down, you knew you wanted it to and felt an overwhelming sense of premature defeat and surrender because of that.
You quickly got over your woes when you were reminded of why you were here in the first place. You had to put an end to the messages; his yearning whispers that were so frequent they made your ears ring. You couldn't take it anymore. They were like flashes, growing more persistent and determined by the day. You came to confront the source once and for all.
As Lestat performed and sang away, the stage lights continued to swing back and forth across the sea of motion. The rotating lights seemed to find their way to one specific face, yours. It glowed with every turn, almost as if by design. Every time the lights made their rounds across the audience, Lestat could've swore he saw your illuminated face among the crowd, almost losing his rhythm. He chalked it up to the incessant hallucinations he'd been having of you, but you just seemed too real and present to be a figment of his desperate imagination.
You brought some friends with you under the pretense that you were a big fan of the music and really wanted to come, and after thinking about it to yourself, that may have not been completely false. As the final song wrapped up, you grabbed your friends' arms and started heading towards the lobby, after which you weaseled your way out of their hold and left them to continue their post-concert debrief. You started making stealthy yet determined strides towards the dressing room. The security for this place left much to be desired, but you weren't surprised, it felt on-brand for him. After reaching the end of the hallway, you finally reached what you believed was your destination. The old door was slightly cracked open. The dazzling vanity lights, jumbled assortment of fabric on the floor, and hangers further confirmed your assumption. Slowly entering the room, you attentively scanned the area and took it all in. The metallic garments, both light and dark, the velvet capes, and the antique pieces were scattered all over. It was all so very him, that a breathy laugh escaped your lips.
As you continued your exhibition, you heard footsteps grow louder and louder. It was him. You could feel his presence amplifying by the second and you did not know how to feel. Turns out that no amount of mental preparation could prepare you for the challenge of facing an old love. You turned around, bracing yourself to face him when he came in and stood your ground. His heeled boots stopped clacking at the entrance of the creaky door.
"Mon cœur." He started making his way towards you, his eyes were almost wide with emotion and longing, but he played the jaded rockstar a little too well for that to happen. Lestat took his leather gloves off on the vanity, and continued to you. You were both eye to eye now.
"You look good. This whole...rockstar get-up, becomes you." You announced, "but I will say... I do miss the 3-piece suits." He drank up the praise like he always did, raising his chin a little. Both of you shuffled around uncomfortably, and the silence made the air feel viscous. "I keep seeing you." He looked at you, but you feigned confusion by tilting your head even though you had an idea what he was talking about, because you were experiencing the very same thing. Lestat inched closer and closer, almost closing the distance between you both. You faced the ground. "Lestat, I've come about the messages. I can't take it anymore." He hesitantly backed up, and you caught a flash of recognition in his eyes. "I suppose I lost my...mental dexterity over the years." He looked at every object in that room but your eyes. Although it seemed unlikely, you had a feeling this wasn't in his control, and your thoughts were confirmed by his shaky confession.
You felt even more disoriented at that moment. He still had a hold on you, and you were questioning the point in resisting it, your armor crumbling by the minute.
"Is that all you came to say?" He huffed frustratingly, an expectant edge to his voice you failed to pick up on. "I suppose that is all, I'll leave you to your coked-up groupies, Lestat." You bitterly sneered, making your way to the door. He grabbed your arm, halting your endeavor. You were facing him again. "There it is, the spunk I so dearly missed. All these years and you torment me with a few sentences, is that what you wish to do? to torment me?" He got closer and closer, threatening your resolve with every word. You couldn't do it any more, you wanted him and he wanted you, it seemed like simple math at the moment. You planted both your palms on his exposed chest, then pleadingly looked up at him, and that was all he needed.
He firmly cupped your face before hungrily devouring you in an open-mouthed kiss. You were kissing him as hard as you were trying to push him back on the velvet couch. After being successful, you continued kissing him until he held you by the waist and flipped you so he was on top, his pale and sculpted body weighing yours down.
Lestat started crawling backwards and suggestively tugged at your waistband, after which you nodded and he started pulling your pants down. He planted kisses all across your thigh and over every single one of your moles, almost as if he was directed by memory. As he kissed away, his hands roamed all over your body, sharp nails gently grazing your skin. When he got to the last mole before your core, he paused, looked at you and cunningly smiled.
Fucking tease
"Lestat!" You writhed in his hold, an annoyed expression taking over your face.
"Aht, aht. You've always been impatient, mon cœur." The slick bastard was getting such a kick out of torturing you, that you noticed his bulge grow harder through his pants. He then lowered himself back down to tuck his face between your thighs. He gently kissed you, the thin cloth of your underwear forming a barrier between him and your pussy, his tongue suavely teasing the cloth up and down. You held onto the couch's ridges as your eyes rolled back in pleasure and anticipation. He then used his pinky nail to swipe the thin strap of your underwear and slid it down, after which he swirled his tongue around your clit. You were almost suffocating him with the way your thighs wound tight around his neck, but he liked that. You reached your climax and could've sworn you saw stars when you did, the room felt lighter and so did the air.
Lestat got back up and swiped the corner of his mouth with his thumb as you lay like a ragdoll on the couch, overstimulated. Like an artist admiring his finished piece, his eyes glinted at you in esteem and affection. After letting you recover, he climbed back on top of you, and kissed you again, this time grinding his aching crotch against yours. You were both skin-to-skin, tearing each other's clothes off, his skin covered in a sheen of sweat, your eyes glossy. While looking you in the eye, he swiftly entered you in a quick thrust, leading you to arch your back and open your mouth in pleasure. He took that as an invitation for another deep, passionate open-mouthed kiss and you gladly obliged.
He held onto the armrest above your head as he thrusted and wrapped his large palm around one of your exposed breasts. He then engulfed it in his mouth, lapping his tongue over your nipple. "How long has it been? since somebody fucked you properly, the way you deserve? probably too long..." He trailed off and tilted his head as he awaited an answer, one you did not give since you were too busy writhing in pleasure under him. He was so cocky, but he could back it up. You were getting closer and closer to your orgasm, not only because of how good he felt inside you, or the satisfying rhythm he moved with, but because of the sensual sounds and moans he let out, you always loved how vocal he was.
"Fuck, mon cœur." His eyes were squinted and face scrunched up, his thrusts, lazy. He was close and so were you. You wrapped your legs around his waist and arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He let out a guttural yet melodious groan, and right after he finally unraveled, so did you. After finishing inside, his body crashed on top and fell next to yours, his chest triumphantly heaving up and down.
You both lay next to each other, processing what had just happened. Lestat switched to his side so that he could face you, a pompous expression on his face, "So much for your rigid resolve..."
"Fuck you, Lestat." you spat, rolling your eyes at him.
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