#* lamourstre .

[stdulac]

what's pretty privilege, of course armand, one of the prettiest, would have to ask.

[ofmensogne]

∗ 53﹕ sender  buys  receiver  a  drink  at  a  bar .

a glass of red wine is placed right in front of him before marcel finishes the one in his hand. he arched his brow at the barman who was quick to inform him that, the drink had been paid for, by the gentleman on the far end of the bar. the agent already suspects who this might be --- he simply does not want to believe it. but when marcel turns his head to look, his throat dries out immediately. the vampire armand waits there, staring straight at him.

the talamasca had bestowed upon him the mission of finding the ancient one's resting place, and waiting for him to fall into vampiric slumber. marcel would be able then to slip into his subconscious, allow himself to be surrounded by the surreal brushstrokes of who armand really was, and like this extract that which weakened him, which inspired him ... all precious things to keep in talamasca's safes. but now, his target had bought him a drink, and the mission was compromised. marcel straightened his back before offering a small sheepish smile to the vampire.

"and here i thought i was being discreet." he joked, letting his head sink between his shoulders in half-performative, half-heartfelt embarrassment. pale fingers slowly wrapped around the glass and lifted it off the counter to examine its' contents. marcel tilted the rim so that he could smell and identify the drink's aromas...after a couple of seconds, marcel puckered his lips, as if pondering very seriously over one particular thought. eventually, he pointed with his index finger at the chardonnay at hand and smiled brightly at his generous mark. "is it poisoned?"

@lamourstre

[ofstlouis]

Smooches Louis

it's an unexpected gesture of affection; armand leans into his space and allows his lips to crash into louis'. the moment of contact feels rough, but slowly they melt into the rhythm which they had built together throughout the decades. after an unsuccessful meeting with an art dealer, louis had not been left in the best of moods. despite armand's insistence that it would be a smart investment, louis did not like their presumptuous business partner. the elevator is taking them down. yet, the small pleased hum which leaves armand's throat makes louis feel as if they might be levitating.

one of his hands remains neatly placed inside his pants' pocket but the other cannot help but instinctively rise to hold onto dark locks, letting long fingers sink into the dark sea that is armand's mind. he holds them there for a moment, both isolated in a moment of genuine tenderness, stripped of any audience or history that might tie them to old roles (maître, armand, amadeo, arun), left with only each other to turn to, louis thinks this might be a moment of true honesty. a rare delicacy they didn't gift each other very often.

the tender kiss eventually breaks, and when louis pulls back to look at his love in the eye, their noses brush together. he moistens his lower lip, hoping to taste any lingering evidence of the kiss shared between those four walls. he dips his toes into the other vampire's mind and thinks he sees something reflected there. a flash, bright but short, and though louis cannot read the passing silver thought, he thinks he feels it; the intention to own, to possess ... manipulation. his thumb softly follows the curve of armand's chin. "that was nice." louis said, half-smiling. a loud ding indicates they have reached the ground floor. "we're not doing business with him though." the doors open, louis pushes himself off the wall and walks past armand.

[ofreporting]

Smooches Daniel but really it’s a poorly hidden bite

it feels like they've been spinning under the dancefloor's dim blue lights for days. daniel doesn't know whether it's the drugs or the blood or having armand pressed up against him which is causing that strange sense of vertigo. his mouth clumsily presses wet kisses along the other man's cheek as the music grows into a frenzied crescendo. attaching his mouth to the other man's skin is the only thing keeping him anchored to planet earth. his hands grab and tug at the vampire's satin shirt, threatening to ruin the otherwise pristine tucked-in look.

he buries his face against the crook of armand's neck and bites there, too far gone to care whether this is too much public affection for a wednesday evening. all he cares about is the other man's scent and how his cold flesh burns against his lips --- molloy wants to break through the skin. leave a mark on his neck like armand has done so many times before. but his teeth are too blunt. at this rate, all he can hope to deliver is a pathetic hickey.

it is armand who grabs his chin and guides him to meet his eyes once more. if he were to tell daniel that up was down and north was south, right there and then he'd have excitedly agreed. his hands pressed against his lower back, urging him closer still. and when armand leans in for a kiss, the young reporter is all too eager to oblige. he parts his lips and welcomes anything and everything armand has to offer. he sighs, relieved to finally have a confirmation that he hasn't fucked things up yet and that the vampire is still entertained by his company despite his pupils having grown three times their normal size.

he only pulls away when a sudden sharp hot pain hits his lower lip. "what the f--" he can taste blood. and as soon as he recognises what stains his tongue, daniel locks eyes with armand. "a heads up would be nice," mumbled the reporter as a lazy smile spread across his cut lips, red now staining his front teeth. "jerk."

[ofstlouis]

[ CLOSE ] : our muses are in a position which leads to the sender stepping intimately closer to the receiver.

the elevator is small, dark wooded and slow in its' ascension. it gives both of them plenty of time to contemplate each other. louis' eyes aren't discreet in their travels up and down armand's figure. they take in the small brightly coloured accessories peeking from the maître's breast pocket, decorating his high socks, tied around his neck ... he lifts his gaze to meet the elder vampire's own. armand always had dressed tastefully but louis could not help but wonder if certain choices had been made due to his most recently voiced appreciations.

the maître suddenly bows his head as if overcome by some intrusive thought --- a weight too heavy for him to carry had suddenly caused his feet to shift and louis had to stand there and watch. he tilted his head back against the elevator's wall and exhaled, a touch of frustration was made clear by his knitted eyebrows: it was the coven. lingering somewhere above them, on the top floor, gathered around a round table with drinks in hand, they were already poking at the theatre's director for attention without him ever walking into the room. the coven was nothing but a brood of unruly children for armand to passionlessly look after.

louis placed both his hands inside his pants' pockets. "you look tense." he pointed out to poor armand. after a few seconds of contemplation, louis pushed himself off the wall he had been leaning against and gave a couple of steps forward. the box they stood in was tight enough as it was. though louis made sure to keep his hands in his pockets and away from the vampire, his right leg was practically lodged between armand's own. louis tilted his head, looking at the other man contemplatively. "are you?" the smugness in the arch of his brow made it crystal clear; louis knew exactly what he was doing.

[ofreporting]

❛   caress .   gently  caress  my  muse’s  face .

the sound of traffic spills through the window and into daniel molloy's shitty one room apartment. it is as if there's a line of cars driving through the middle his god damn living room. he had begged for his nightly visitor to let him close the window shut but the vampire armand had mentioned something about breezes and letting the room breathe. daniel had tried to explain that in january people had no use for breezes. but his explanation had fallen on deaf ears. he had been forced to find himself a wool shirt from the pile of clothes folded over his one good chair. the faint smell of perspiration stuck to the armpit area and, for a split second, daniel wondered if that would displease armand. he is quick to shake those worries away; he had showed up uninvited! he never gave daniel any heads up or warnings or safe words --- so what if he stunk? let him suffer.

but, of course, bitterness slowly melted into tenderness.

he watched as those wide disconcerting eyes shifted across the titles of the interview tapes molloy kept in a shoebox under the bed and could not help but be enthralled by the creature's curiosity. armand would occasionally pluck a tape out of its' row and tell daniel to play it. tobacco stained fingers would press a button on the cassette player and armand would simply sit there, still and alert, as if he could see the sound being played. every once in a while he'd grow bored mid-interview, return to the pile of recordings, pick another poor soul to conjure and daniel would quietly repeat the same ritual, over and over again, as many times as armand wanted, for as long as daniel was willing to entertain him.

this went on for hours. three thirty in the fucking morning and molloy is struggling to keep his eyes open while listening to an interview a veteran gave him about how he had watched his best friend get the bottom part of his face blown off in vietnam. his head becomes too heavy to stay up. it tilts back against the couch where armand lays. his ass is sore from sitting on the hard wood floor, but daniel is too proud to ask the ancient vampire to let him scooch in next to him. he straightens his back. tries to fixate on the gruesome logistics of how to keep saliva inside a mouth that's missing a jaw. but his eyes flutter shut. his head bobs back. it's lights out for danny boy.

he wakes up an hour later with a stiff neck and a sharp pain in his back. the promising young journalist tries to move his head to the side in hopes that'll pop something back into place. but instead he sees armand with his eyes shut. his dark lashes neatly rest over high cheekbones and his lips are slightly parted. molloy stays very still as he notices that, the all powerful vampire, has folded both of his elegant hands under one of his cheeks to serve as a pillow --- he looks like the perfect cherub.

so much so that, before he can help it, daniel is reaching out to stroke armand's face. pale fingers carefully brush over the curve of his cheek as a small chuckle dies in the depths of his chest. he knows better than to believe this sleeping beauty act. "hope you're not pretendin' to sleep for my sake." he jokes, anticipating the warm colour of his guest's gaze. "sorry to burst your bubble, but no one looks that pretty when they're knocked out." daniel gently pats armand's face, consoling him for his failed attempt at acting. "try drooling next time."

[ofstlouis]

Armand kissed the pulse of his wrist and felt stolen blood flutter beneath the skin and allowing the two to live here for just a moment. he pressed another kiss up his forearm. “ happiest of birthdays ,” he murmured, clasping a gold bracelet snugly across the seam of his wrist. Armand had meticulously planned this once he learned of course, perhaps it was because he did not know his own date of birth that he leaned so much into others — or perhaps, human traditions fascinated him : both could be true at once. “ one hundred and fourty eight ? “

armand's lips feel soft against the thin skin of his wrist and the words which spill out of his mouth are almost as gentle as the hands which clasp a bracelet around him --- louis thinks the gold ought to feel cold; that there should be a weight to it. a constriction against the flesh of his arm which remains there, in dubai despite his mind's tendency to wander through time and space ( who would she be today? what would she feel? where would she hide from him? ). jade eyes watch armand lovingly, grateful that there is something beautiful and pure that he can still touch without wounding fatally.

brown fingers carefully brush over the golden present. "yes." louis murmured, already numb to the concept of ageing. "i think so." he half-smiles at the other vampire before leaning over to press a kiss against his cheek. against armand's skin, louis is allowed a second of melancholy; he feels the phantom pains of a family he lacks while simultaneously being overjoyed by his paramour's presence. "thank you." to have armand beside him was enough of a gift.

[ofstlouis]

Kisses Louis’ nose