[ It is clearly obvious that Lestat, as a more than reasonably attractive man, is used to being considered in this kind of way... but something about the way Louis' precise eye moves across his body has Lestat suddenly feeling as though he is the one pinned in place, and without the slightest physical restraint to speak of. What he wouldn't give to hear of exactly how he's led Louis astray, ruined him, had this kind of lasting effect on him. It almost fizzles out the power in his sulk. Almost.
The whole display of the unwrapping has him tense in bubbling excitement. Where he still rests his chin on his hand, his pointer finger taps impatiently against his own cheek as he watches. Usually he would have basked in the performance of it all, but he's oddly captivated with watching Louis' face for the slightest twitch of a reaction in him.
When he finally speaks, voice full of the expected reverence but unexpectedly missing the mark completely, Lestat lets out a helpless and slightly breathless laugh. ]
It is out of print, mon cher. I think the gentleman in the shop thought I'd stolen it from a museum. I had to spin some great tale about an estate and an old collection passed down through generations of my family.
[ His body has relaxed now, at least. It's clearly regained once more some of its vampiric elegance as he leans a little closer, a hand coming forward to gently squeeze the lock and pop the cover. The edition page is still intact; Lestat made it an imperative request that not a single sliver of the pages were removed, no matter how damaged. This one in particular had been close to falling out, but has been repaired with extreme skill. ]
Though, before you wonder how you will ever thank me for taking your dreary items and dragging them into the current century, I have to admit that I wasn't entirely selfless in choosing this gift for you. It comes with a request. [ Pause. ] Well, a demand, really.
[ His smile turns sharper, he's very clearly enjoying this, and he straightens to regard Louis with an expression that betrays none of the vibrating anxiety clamped around his heart at the thought of admitting this out loud in such an intimate manner. ]
( Louis flips through the pages as Lestat explains, his touch so delicate and loving that Lestat would be well in his rights to be jealous of a book. It's only when Lestat makes his request that Louis finally looks up at him, his eyes wide with wonder, his lips slightly parted in near-confusion, as if he can't quite believe he's heard that right.
It feels as if someone's reached into his chest to squeeze his heart, and it's somehow both painful and comforting at once. To anyone else, it might be such a small thing to ask, but Louis feels as if he's being given something precious, something that he's longed for all his immortal life. Lestat's smile is so brave and confident, but if anyone knows what this moment is costing him in pride, it's Louis.
Words, Louis thinks, would spoil the moment. Action for action, then. Lestat would appreciate that, and besides, Louis would like to pick up where they left off, more or less. And so, heart fluttering in his chest, Louis rests a hand on Lestat's knee as he leans in and kisses him on the lips. )
[ Such a perfect reaction, Lestat thinks, to see him so frozen by feeling and speechless. It would be all too easy to accuse Louis to be a man of few words, definitely not someone who enjoys the sound of his own voice in the same way Lestat himself does, but instead choosing each word with meaning and care. Lestat loves, more than anything else, to be the reason for Louis to search for what to say, and loves it even more when he fails to accurately describe the breadth of his feelings because they're so strong. Emotion in Louis is addictive, and Lestat drinks it up with the same fervour as the blood.
So when Louis kisses him, Lestat raises a hand to rest his fingers between his collar bones, palm strong against his chest. He smiles into the kiss, playfully pushing back with a little more intensity before he uses that hand to hold him away, just for a moment, like a dog away from its dinner. But there's no real power to it, no real intention, and he only holds him centimetres away; Lestat can't possibly resist giving Louis anything he wants for too long. ]
Ah, is that a yes?
[ He laughs, just a soft exhalation of breath against Louis' mouth. ]
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no subject
The whole display of the unwrapping has him tense in bubbling excitement. Where he still rests his chin on his hand, his pointer finger taps impatiently against his own cheek as he watches. Usually he would have basked in the performance of it all, but he's oddly captivated with watching Louis' face for the slightest twitch of a reaction in him.
When he finally speaks, voice full of the expected reverence but unexpectedly missing the mark completely, Lestat lets out a helpless and slightly breathless laugh. ]
It is out of print, mon cher. I think the gentleman in the shop thought I'd stolen it from a museum. I had to spin some great tale about an estate and an old collection passed down through generations of my family.
[ His body has relaxed now, at least. It's clearly regained once more some of its vampiric elegance as he leans a little closer, a hand coming forward to gently squeeze the lock and pop the cover. The edition page is still intact; Lestat made it an imperative request that not a single sliver of the pages were removed, no matter how damaged. This one in particular had been close to falling out, but has been repaired with extreme skill. ]
Though, before you wonder how you will ever thank me for taking your dreary items and dragging them into the current century, I have to admit that I wasn't entirely selfless in choosing this gift for you. It comes with a request. [ Pause. ] Well, a demand, really.
[ His smile turns sharper, he's very clearly enjoying this, and he straightens to regard Louis with an expression that betrays none of the vibrating anxiety clamped around his heart at the thought of admitting this out loud in such an intimate manner. ]
I would like you to read to me.
no subject
It feels as if someone's reached into his chest to squeeze his heart, and it's somehow both painful and comforting at once. To anyone else, it might be such a small thing to ask, but Louis feels as if he's being given something precious, something that he's longed for all his immortal life. Lestat's smile is so brave and confident, but if anyone knows what this moment is costing him in pride, it's Louis.
Words, Louis thinks, would spoil the moment. Action for action, then. Lestat would appreciate that, and besides, Louis would like to pick up where they left off, more or less. And so, heart fluttering in his chest, Louis rests a hand on Lestat's knee as he leans in and kisses him on the lips. )
no subject
So when Louis kisses him, Lestat raises a hand to rest his fingers between his collar bones, palm strong against his chest. He smiles into the kiss, playfully pushing back with a little more intensity before he uses that hand to hold him away, just for a moment, like a dog away from its dinner. But there's no real power to it, no real intention, and he only holds him centimetres away; Lestat can't possibly resist giving Louis anything he wants for too long. ]
Ah, is that a yes?
[ He laughs, just a soft exhalation of breath against Louis' mouth. ]