#& lestat.

[cur4tor]

with lestat, he feels vulnerable in a way he doesn't usually. when he's sensitive, when he feels his heart vibrating on his sleeve, he feels naked. exposed to the rest of the cruel world, waiting for them to judge. lestat makes his vulnerability almost bearable, something that doesn't feel like static beneath his skin. he draws circles over lestat's bare back, eyes closed as he seems to sink further into the bed. '¿eres real?' kit questions, because every moment with lestat has felt like a dream, so far. 'you feel real, but . . . i want to be sure,' @tueurloup.

[cur4tor]

@tueurloup sent 📷 for 3 - 5 pictures kit has of lestat.

[cur4tor]

i gave you something you can never give back, don't you mind? @tueurloup.

[cur4tor]

LESTAT DE LIONCOURT: 38. SENDER ACCIDENTALLY SAYS 'I LOVE YOU' DURING SEX.

they'd done this time and time again, kit falling more and more in love with lestat, lestat enjoying the way they felt together. he still hadn't pushed the other for anything more than sex, despite wanting his love returned so badly that it ached. lestat would be ready someday, or he wouldn't. it didn't matter. kit would love her until he died.

only, tonight felt different. a night filled with romance, long kisses with tongue, staring into each other's eyes, laughing quietly as they both leaned in too far over the table. even the way they got undressed wasn't rushed, each piece stripped deliberately from their bodies, each admiring the others form before they fell into lestat's silk sheets again. kit loved them. so much that they spelled it with their tongue over lestat's thighs before he'd sunk deep inside of her, hips moving slowly, trying to hit every spot he knew felt good inside of the other's body. kit almost missed the words that left lestat's lips, reverent, enamored, but as soon as he was able to process them, kit jerked forward once, almost stopping but opting not to ruin the moment with his sensitivity.

he tried not to recall the memory of the first time he'd bared his soul, only met with lestat's elegant chuckle, a devastating rejection, though still not enough to run kit off. now wasn't the time. even as his eyes teared up, even as he hid his face in lestat's neck, kit didn't care if she meant it. them just saying it in the heat of the moment was enough. what he couldn't stop, however, was what the words did to him. he was making love to lestat, then he was moving faster, overwhelmed and panting. he couldn't wait, nor stop himself. he drove himself into lestat one final time with the deepest possible thrust, burying his rigid length all the way inside. he hadn't wanted to finish so early, and he flushed from the tips of his ears down to his shoulders, trying to catch his breath so he could whisper, 'jesus, i'm so sorry, i didn't . . . it's just, what you said -' then he shook his head, unable to finish his sentence, even as his cum finished dripping into lestat. 'give me a few minutes, i can go again,' @tueurloup.

[cur4tor]

LESTAT DE LIONCOURT: BITING THEIR LIP AMIDST A KISS, DRAWING BLOOD.

a haze had fully washed over kit, leaving him to believe he was in a dream that he was more than happy to be in. glasses found their place on the nightstand, his tie loosened and top button of his shirt undone as he lounged on the bed with lestat. comfortably, his hand sank into the other's hair, feeling the luscious softness of it between his fingers. if this wasn't a dream, lestat themselves were. and if not her, than her attraction to him, to be sure. it's not something he said aloud, right now, unwanting to ruin a moment kit had rarely gotten in the past. their lips had been twined for . . . seconds? minutes? hours? for once, kit hadn't been counting. after another moment, tongue flitting back into his mouth, a sharp pain set his bottom lip on fire. instinctively, kit pulled away with a wince, hand flying to the wound, pulling away with bright red painting his fingerprints. the blood caused brows to rise, then crease, kit glancing up to meet lestat's eyes next. 'did you . . .' stupid question. yes, they bit him. and it hurt. but . . . kit didn't want lestat to think he didn't like it. sitting up a bit, kit wiped away more of the blood, taking a breath to steady himself, though embarrassment flooded his cheeks. 'do you . . . want this, mi amor?' @tueurloup.

[cur4tor]

LESTAT DE LIONCOURT: RED ROSE. A LUXURY PENTHOUSE SUITE.

there are many things kit will never get used too, and one of them is the dizzying, neon soaked opulence of lestat’s life. stepping into the penthouse, everywhere he looks, there is polished marble, velvet that practically glows under dramatic lightning, and an overwhelming luxury that makes him feel out of place. he doesn’t know what to do with his shoes or jacket, so he simply stands near the door, fingers twitching as he tries to keep himself from fidgeting further. ‘lestat, it’s . . . tu casa es hermosa, muy incredible,’ kit tries and fails not to look self conscious as he meets lestat’s stare. ‘very . . . big. thank you for inviting me,’ @tueurloup.

[cur4tor]

LESTAT DE LIONCOURT: ‘I BROUGHT YOU SOMETHING. IT’S STUPID, BUT IT MADE ME THINK OF YOU.’ A COLLECTION OF OLD BROOCHES AND RINGS IN A SMALL WOODEN BOX, ONCE WORK BY LESTAT NEARLY A CENTURY AGO.

growing up in chile, kit had been taught to value everything he had, and everything he was given. that notion only grew when his father died, and him and his mother moved to america. over time, the sentiment was somewhat lost on him, as his stepfather proved that maybe kit didn't deserve anything, at all. which means the idea of receiving a gift, whatever the type, weighs heavily on kit’s chest, only pushed aside by a sense of surprise that lestat had been thinking about him. hesitation slows the movement of his hand as kit reaches forward for the box, glancing up at lestat for confirmation that it is really for him before looking down again. when opened, he can make out exactly when most of the rings and brooches were made, in what era, by whose hand. but he will have to analyze them later, because for now, kit’s eyes are tearing up as he lifts them to meet lestat’s again. ‘this is . . . far from stupid, querido,’ kit blinks away tears as he smiles at the other. ‘these are . . . are you certain you’d like me to have them? for my personal collection, of course, i would never shelf them,’ kit takes a breath, squeezing the box in his hands. ‘thank you. i’ll find something to give you in return,’ @tueurloup.