Archive of Our Own ^beta

"She burn quick?" Louis asks, leaning in so Lestat may light his cigarette with his own.

"See for yourself," he insists, a small thrill tingling up his spine just imagining Louis's reaction.

So desperate is Lestat to see a modicum of outrage, envy, anything! from his dear husband.

The past weeks have proven to be quite tumultuous: Louis stubbornly refuses to give up his new diet and the lofty coigne of vantage his ethical consumption affords him. Predictably, their sex life fell victim to Louis's adamant denial of sustenance. Just nights ago, for example, Louis could barely produce enough slick on his own that Lestat had to rifle through his wardrobe for a bottle of lubricant, only to have his Omega nag him for having such an offensive thing. Another night, Louis remained soft the entire fuck, insisting that he wanted Lestat to keep going although his body was not equally enjoying himself. Not to mention, Louis will spur his advances every other night, refuse to even allow Lestat to join him in his coffin or welcome him into their marital bed. What Louis spreads is not his legs or arms to invite Lestat, but instead the spine of a book so he may ignore Lestat! The words of these droll authors have stolen his attention, and what little energy Louis must possess is wasted on flipping those damned pages. Over the span of a few weeks, the tenderness and hunger for each other has diminished into contempt and passive aggression. And to think, just this time a month ago, Louis was well-sated with blood and sex, purring under Lestat's affections! It's been torture! 

How foolish was Lestat, to take for granted, how they once could not keep their hands off each other! Yes, how it would be Louis sweetly urging Lestat between his legs, how it would be Louis needling and badgering him for another round, how it would be Louis preening under his affection and gaze. Not anymore! 

How foolish is Louis now, to assume Lestat would continue to live a life so dreadfully barren of love and passion? How foolish would Louis be to blame Lestat for satisfying himself after denying him so cruelly and frequently!  

Louis takes a look into the flames, his brow pinching. Before he can ask, Lestat readily supplies, "A dentist from Tallahassee. There's a dentistry convention in town. Sinister talk of molars and tricuspids on every corner."  

The realization dawns on Louis like a dark cloud. "So, you didn't kill her," he blankly says, not in question. He turns his back from Lestat after kissing his teeth. 

"No," Lestat breezily agrees, firmly standing his ground. He tosses his cigarette aside. "She has talents."

Louis's nostrils flare. Delightful!  "Did you knot her?" he asks coldly, voice clipped, his beautiful green eyes glaring so gorgeously in high dudgeon.

Lestat just smiles at his beloved Louis knowingly. Such a foolish question! It would be like asking Lestat if he enjoyed the jiggly skin of Antoinette's slightly sagging breasts cupped in his hands, if he had relished in her eager laughter: of course he did! Naturally! How could he not?! He's been so neglected, so discarded by his Louis that of course Lestat lavished the singer with all his pent up desire and lust. 

Louis's eyes sear into Lestat's, the unbridled rage he's so desperately trying to keep in check no match for the taut cords of his neck and the tight lines of displeasure on his face.  Because, of course, there is that issue. 

It's been six years of trying, but no pregnancy has bloomed from their many, many copulations. 

He can see the gears turning in Louis's head as he backs away from Lestat, smoke spilling from his ears at the thought Antoinette would get knocked up on the first go. 

"She's a beta," Lestat says matter-of-factly, to lessen the blow. Wisely, he bites back an accompanying jab, "What difference would it make? With your pathetic diet, my seed would have been wasted tonight anyway." 

At Louis's healthiest and most ravenous, a child had still not been conceived. How could Louis realistically expect his weakened body would house a child if his strongest self couldn't? 

Fuck, Lestat might as well have shot his load down the shower drain, into the fucking incinerator! Same result! 

Louis exhales a ragged breath before looking at Lestat, the hurt in his voice palpable as he asks, "Aren't I your Omega?" 

Finally! An admission of possessiveness! Those heartbroken four words comprise the most relieving sentence Lestat could have ever asked for! Louis implores for answers to the questions he did not ask: Don't you love me? Aren't I enough? Without even saying it, he has conveyed a desperate need for Lestat to reassure him that he is still wanted!  Though it should be Lestat demanding such answers from his frigid, scornful sweetheart! 

"Don't!" he hiccups, bursting at the seams with joy. A laugh bumbles right out of him, so jubilant to have proof Louis feels as insecure as Lestat does now! His darling finally wears his heart on his sleeve! He skips over to Louis to take him into his arms, beside himself with relief. "Louis!" he sighs elatedly, holding his beloved's face between his paws. "Louis!" 

"Don't laugh," Louis grumbles though he allows Lestat to grab onto him. "Don't laugh!" 

He scratches his thumbnail at a smudge of drying animal blood on the corner of Louis's mouth, tutting softly, "You have some squirrel on your--" 

"No, don't," Louis fusses, twisting away from Lestat's touch. Back is that worrisome reproach in his eyes, that unfortunately familiar displeasure in the crinkle of his nose. 

Lestat pets on the lapels of his darling's coat, tugging him back. "We'll be together ten thousand nights. A hundred thousand," he reminds seriously, stroking his finger over the smile lines he rarely sees nowadays. "What we're doing is hard." Louis eyes Lestat up and down warily, clearly still cross with him. "Anything that wards off the dullness of the everlasting road we walk." He clutches Louis's to him, presses their hips together encouragingly as he whispers, "The pleasures of the flesh. The pleasures of the kill...for me." For added effect, he straightens Louis's shoulders and (yes, admittedly) patronizingly adds, "The pleasures of the good book by the fire for you!" 

"I can smell her on you," Louis says with disgust, recoiling. 

Lestat swallows his sigh. His difficult, challenging Omega! "From time to time, I like a little variety," Lestat divulges softly, tugging his Louis back into his arms. If Louis wants to diet, so be it! Lestat will be the gluttonous one! Lestat will not starve himself of blood or pleasure. Let him make this clear! "There. I said it. We're communicating so much better now, non?" He cups the back of Louis's skull and leans in. Louis's eagerness to meet his mouth betrays his facade of displeasure, so needing he is as Lestat sucks on his bottom lip. Finally, Lestat's kiss entices Louis's scent glands to expel the earthy scent of Louis, and the alluring perfume of Louis graces his lungs. His Omega, his darling! Sucking on his top lip, a soft hum in the back of his throat adding a sweet vibration to their kiss. 

Ever the predator,  Lestat opens his eyes shortly before pulling away. He rubs at Louis's chest, hopes perhaps this threat disguised-as-a-confession will urge Louis to cease his senseless deprivations. 

Louis regards him regally, almost smugly he looks at his Alpha. His voice rich and testy, he supposes, "So I can be knotted by whoever I want?" 

Fuck. 

Lestat has miscalculated. 

So abhorrent this thought of another Alpha knotting or breeding his Louis, visions of fire and carnage flash through his mind, makes his stomach upset, makes him want to rip the throats of any Alpha in the hundred-mile radius of New Orleans. 

He can't admit defeat now! 

"Of course," he insists, shaking his head. He reiterates it again and again, convincing himself more than Louis. Louis accepts his response with a brief nod of the head before he tilts up his nose and makes his way inside on his own. 

They continue this charade of indifference for a few more nights. 

Lestat spends none of them in Louis's coffin. 

Louis seems to be enjoying Lestat's torment. This evening he dressed in a mouthwatering navy suit before heading out to the Azalea while Lestat was still changing from his sleep clothes. Not even a 'good evening' or a kiss goodbye to his Alpha! 

Perhaps, Louis was still displeased with the rather scandalous scene he'd made last night. After Antoinette had finished her set, Lestat had swirled her up into his arms before dipping her for a wet, open-mouthed kiss before all the other patrons and the band. He then had fingered at the scent glands of her neck before sucking his fingers into his mouth with a devilish grin. Louis had watched the entire display desperately trying to keep a stone-face. Oh yes, his Louis had held onto the chalice of his Sezerac so tightly, Lestat was shocked the glass hadn't shattered. It was delicious, stoking the jealous fire in Louis's eyes in real time. Who knew provoking his husband would be so satisfying: either way he is receiving affection. Louis's barely contained rage is just the cherry on top! 

Yet, despite the goading, Louis has refused to give in! Is still eating animals, therefore is still refusing Lestat's touch.  

So Lestat must up the ante, clearly. 

Louis's next heat cycle is due to begin next week, surely Lestat can coax him back into his arms and the blood by then? 

He pulls on a dark brown suit, one he knows Louis particularly likes with how his scent glands always emit when he sees Lestat wearing it.  He feeds on two burly mortals so his complexion will be radiant, his prowess strong. Maybe Louis will smell the blood on his breath and seek a taste for himself? 

Unfortunately, he does not. 

Louis avoids him the moment he sits beside him at their table.  He adamantly focuses on the band, and once Antoinette arrives on stage, he excuses himself to go play billiards without offering Lestat join him. 

Fine! Lestat makes a great show of escorting Antoinette upstairs, makes sure to pass by Louis as he herds her towards Louis's office with a hand firmly planted on her backside. "I need to have a private conversation with Miss Brown regarding her performance," Lestat singsongs as explanation, smirking at Louis's tight-lipped expression as he peppers kisses over Antoinette's face. 

Antoinette is a rather theatrical moaner, so Louis no doubt hears them during their 'meeting.' He escorts Antoinette back down to the courtyard, placing her in Louis's seat so they may enjoy the band together. He catches Louis glaring down at them from the balcony, so exquisitely enraged that Lestat laughs. Antoinette laughs along with him for no reason. She's quite birdlike, isn't she? Such a delightful voice, but such a tiny little brain! Louis rolls his eyes and marches back inside. 

Lestat ditches her towards the end of the evening, not bothering to bid her goodbye or keep up the pretense of enjoying her company when he realizes Louis has left without him noticing. The car is still parked out front, but after a quick search through mortal minds, he can see his peeved darling walking home with an agitated gait. 

Very well, then! Lestat finds the spare car key in Louis's desk drawer and drives home.

His beloved is already in his coffin, likely stewing in anger but not wanting Lestat to see, so Lestat snorts in glee as he passes over to his wardrobe to undress. 

"Good night, darling," he bids, sincerely of course, but with a taunting edge as he settles into his own coffin moments later. 

He receives nothing back. Very well, Lestat figures, shifting around to get comfortable, crossing his slippered shoes other the over. Sleep comes easily for him, an enchanting dream of Louis of course. His dream is so lifelike and real, it's as though Lestat can smell Louis! The rich notes of his pink slick, the type of slick he only has during his cycle that encourages pregnancy, oh yes that luscious slick coating over his cock as he fucks the Louis in his dream is so vivid, it's -- 

Louis's coffin hinges creak then slam shut quickly. "Fuck!" The familiar sound of Louis pattering away follows. 

The intoxicating fragrance of Louis's heat slick was no machination of his mind; no, his darling is actually in heat! An irregularly timed cycle, likely due to Louis's eating habits. 

"Louis?" he asks in alarm, eyes flashing open. He bolts out of his own coffin to see Louis racing down the stairs, the fumes of his heat lingering in the air. "What are you doing?" 

"I'm early! I'm gonna just --" Louis starts, and Lestat rushes down to catch up. Louis's pacing about in the parlor, clearly distressed. "I'm just gonna..." and he heads over to the front door. Lestat beats him there, guards the door with his life. Yes, heats can make the sanest of Omegas go mad, but what in the hell is Louis thinking? His eyes hone in on a clock that confirms it's almost noon, prime daylight hours! "I just...I just need to..." Louis heaves a heavy breath then pivots on his heel to race back upstairs.

Lestat chases after him, bewildered and frankly concerned. "Louis?!"  

"Oh god," Louis groans, flopping onto their marital bed and rolling over into the middle. 

"Darling," Lestat breathlessly says, a stirring in his own gut blossoming. Though their cycles could ideally match as mortals, vampiric ruts can be easily triggered by their bondmate's heat. The sight of Louis on their bed with the smell of his heat has Lestat bounding over to his wardrobe and gathering up Louis's nest blankets and pillows automatically. It's like a flip switch in his brain!  

He tosses the bundle onto the bed which Louis immediately rifles through to begin building the nest. 

Oh god, Lestat wants Louis. His darling, his Omega, his beloved mate, his life, his love! His lioness, his deadly and sleek and sensual pussycat! What had they been so angry with each other for? Lestat loves him! Oh, Lestat wants to fill Louis with babies, is thrilled by visions of him teaching his pride of littles ones to hunt and protecting their cubs from the pitchforks with his life, at the idea of providing Louis the litter he so desperately wants! The visual of his Louis heavily pregnant with Lestat's cub, pattering around their home with another child on his hip as Lestat keeps them safe and well cared for... Oh god. His Louis, his dear, infuriatingly gorgeous Louis! 

Lestat begins undressing wildly, tearing off his shirt, then yanking out of his sleep pants which are unbearably tight with his bulging erection.

Louis stops his nestbuilding and stares at him, eyes narrowing. "What are you doing?" Lestat steps out of his boxers, confused by Louis's question. What does it look like he's doing? He opens his mouth, but Louis says, "You're not..." 

Not what?! 

Oh now this would be too cruel of a punishment to inflict upon Lestat! He may play his games all he wants, but not now! Not when their bodies are in tune to each other, their primal instincts desperate for action! To refuse Lestat's knot during his heat would be borderline torture, a devastating blow to them both! Louis, no doubt, has a predilection to punish and deprive himself, but this would be crossing the line! Whatever point Louis is trying to make, whatever game Lestat has let go on for far too long, whatever whatever whatever! cannot rival the intensity of this moment, the gravity of this ritual. 

Lestat growls a warning, "You can't be serious, Louis." 

Louis shakes his head, fluffing one pillow, his dilated eyes staring straight through Lestat's soul. "No, no. You..." he starts, frantic and as though the words he's about to say are making him sick. "You smell like her." 

Lestat swallows his tongue, his blood runs cold. Damn it! "That was hours ago, my love! And I--" 

"Let me see," Louis beckons, on his knees at the end of the bed, crooking his finger with a come-hither notion. Not an invitation into the nest, no, but so tantalizingly close. Lestat stands before Louis like a man before the firing squad, waiting with bated breath as Louis sniffs over him. Lestat resists the urge to wrap his arms around Louis's middle, to remind Louis just how good he can make him feel, how they were made for this! Yet, Louis pulls away with a sour expression. "No, no you can't come in here. Her scent's all over you." He seems to gag in his mouth at that before he resumes his work building his nest...why is he building the damn thing if he isn't planning to make use of it?! To just taunt? Louis's flushed, obviously cock-hungry and needing, but he's so talented at making himself suffer. "You can't come in. No, no." 

"Darling, please," Lestat pleads, a fever creeping over his body, plastering his hair to his temple. 

"Nu-huh," Louis shakes his head again before groaning out in pain, grabbing at his lower stomach. "Fuck!" 

"Louis," Lestat tries again, distraught and desperate.

"Don't you fucking Louis me," he snaps, lifting his head up from his crouch. Oh, he's bitten his lip bloody. He sprawls against the bed, and he bends his knees and slithers his hand beneath his waistband to soothe his leaking hole. Lestat can hear how wet it is; the scent, unbearably overwhelming. "Oh. Oh, god." 

Lestat could fall to his knees. "Sweetheart." 

"Fuck you," Louis says, resting up on his elbow to tug his flannel shirt over his head. "You just had to fuck her, didn't you?" Louis kicks out of his pajama pants, drenched in slick and sticky. They make a wet thwop! sound as he flings them to the floor beside the bed. 

"What can I do to make it up to you?" he beseeches, overwrought. "I can't bear the thought of you in distress, darling. Oh what can I do to make this better?" Lestat runs a hand through his hair. "I'll go scrub my skin raw in the shower! I have plenty of cologne I could use to mask--" 

Louis laughs, a devilish mean giggle that startles Lestat. "Oh, honey. Baby," he croons, naked and glowing with his heat, the fever in his eyes, his body is a siren song chanting for Lestat! "Don't y'know how I dealt with my heats before you?" 

Lestat's eyes narrow, his teeth grind. "Don't you say it--" 

"You wanna make me feel better? How about you make a few calls to some Alpha services, see if I can get a house-call appointment? You said the other night I could have any knot I want, right? So go arrange that for me." Louis begins to probe his divine fingers at his wet hole, spreads the slick around sloppily. "I'll fuck myself with my fingers till they get here." 

Lestat could snarl in rage! Lestat could laugh in his face at the idea of such a ludicrous demand, at the idea of Louis claiming he'd do any work! Lestat could weep and beg! Lestat's nails bite into the meat of his palms as he fights to keep his temper in check. The last thing he needs is to dig himself into a deeper hole. Oh his Louis, like a hissing lioness batting away her mate, snarling and cruel. Lestat needs him, is completed by him, wants to devour him! 

"Louis, darling," Lestat croons, sweetly and coaxingly. "My Omega. I love you." He raises his palm invitingly. Louis regards it stormily before shuffling back to the edge of the bed, letting Lestat cup his cheek with his paw. "How I hope our children take after your sense of humor and wit." 

Louis whines softly at that. "I'm not kidding," he insists, nuzzling his cheek into Lestat's hand. "Even if you didn't stink of her, I wouldn't let you in here." 

"No?" Lestat says softly, delicately to his Omega. 

"Mhm," Louis insists, licking at Lestat's ring finger. He inhales deeply and sighs, and then tugs Lestat closer so he can sniff at the scent glands on his neck. "Oh." 

Lestat cradles the back of his head soothingly, encourages him to take his fill of Lestat's Alpha musk. "If you won't let me knot you, then at least let me feed you?" Louis weakly groans then nods, wraps his arms around Lestat's neck before latching onto his throat and drinking ravenously. Lestat feels high, like he's in the clouds, yet still so present and solid. He needs Louis, needs to knot him, needs to make sure he's healthy and well fed, needs to claim and mark Louis and remind him what they are to each other. "That's it. As much as you want, darling. The baby will need nutrition, no?" 

Louis grunts against his skin, and his glands emit another whiff of his heady scent. He pulls away after a moment, blinks at Lestat, before he lowers back onto the bed. "We won't be able to use these sheets again," Louis says finally, shimmying his shoulders to get comfortable against the pillow behind his head. "The scent will be tainted, so you'll have to buy me all new pillows and blankets if I let you--" 

"Yes, yes of course! As many as you want, anything, oh anything, darling!" Lestat agrees. "Please." 

Louis coyly spreads his legs. "You can come in, baby." 

Lestat could cry in relief. He immediately joins his darling and mounts him, sucks kisses against his neck in gratitude of Louis's mercy as he bottoms out. "Darling," he sighs into his ear, pumping into him. Oh god how he has missed this warmth, this union of their bodies, his love beneath him! "My Omega." 

Louis's still hanging onto his act with one final blow, "How could you give her the knot that belongs to me? What if that cum was the one, baby? What if the cum you wasted in her was the one that would've took--" 

"Darling, I'll track her down and scoop it out of her and put it in you," Lestat insists, his words slurring a bit. 

Louis makes a bewildered but amused face at that. "No, I'd rather you didn't," he decides, pleased with himself, laughing smugly. He tilts his hips up to urge Lestat fuck him harder, and Lestat is proud to see Louis's own cock is plump and hard against his lovely stomach. Louis puffs up his breast so alluringly that Lestat can't help but suck on his bosom. 

Lestat wants to retract what he said the other night, wants to outright beg Louis to just kill the singer and prove his love for Lestat, wants to make Louis drink humans again, wants to make Louis want to drink humans on his own volition. 

He nurses from Louis instead, suctions the nipple until it's puffy and swollen. The way it'll look, surely, once they finally make a baby together. "We'll have a child soon, I just know it," he tells Louis sincerely, lifting up his head, catching his breath.  

Louis mewls at that and nudges his head down to his other breast for his mouth's attention. He suckles eagerly, desperately, oh how he's missed this taste. Even when Louis is not in heat, he's always urging Lestat to lavish his breasts with affection during sex. He's gone so long without the gut-coiling sensation that pools deep inside when he does this, that makes him want to bundle Louis tighter and tighter as though he could swallow him whole, milk him dry.  

He pulls up from the swollen nub after a few minutes, his knot beginning to grow. A trail of spit connects his mouth and Louis's perked-up nipple as he captures Louis's mouth. He deepens his strokes, clutches his hips closer to him. Mid-thrust, he realizes he's only a few pumps away from his knot's full expansion. "Darling," he warns Louis, nuzzling into his neck as his orgasm reaches. "Oh, darling." 

"Baby," Louis coos soothingly as he cums, digging the tips of his toes deep into the mattress, positing his hips up in an attempt to get Lestat to shoot further inside him. Blearily, Lestat takes Louis's hard cock in his paw and jacks it until Louis releases over Lestat's fingers and stomach. "My Alpha." 

Damn right, Lestat is his Alpha! The rosy haze of his climax doesn't stop him from spiraling into the idea of another Alpha knotting his Louis, another man feeling this indescribable pleasure, the horrifying thought that Louis would invite another man's seed into his womb. He ought to make these concerns known now! But Lestat doesn't want to ruin this serene moment, wants to absorb the wonderful relaxing embrace he's in fully. Who knows if they will return to their bickering, their stalemate after Louis runs through his heat? It's unlikely Louis will give up his vegetarian performance so easily. What does it matter -- what's happening now is all Lestat cares about. 

"There's a new home goods shop on Canal," Lestat says slowly, reeling back from the pleasure. It'll be good while until his knot deflates. He'd like another round, but he does enjoy the post-knot cuddling and pillow talk that occurs while they wait for the knot to retract. 

Louis plays with his hair and rubs his back. "Mhm?" 

Lestat kisses the side of his neck before lifting his head up. Oh his darling! His well-bred, thoroughly fucked love! "But we can order your finest soft things from around the world if you'd like," Lestat adds. 

Louis looks at him, saying nothing but everything with his soft, demure smile. "You're carrying this all into the incinerator," he says. "And since this is the last time we'll use 'em," he figures, tracing his finger over Lestat's lips. "Maybe we can make a mess of 'em, huh?" 

Lestat nods his head. He pumps his hips even though his knot is still plugging Louis up just to tease. "We have all day. And the rest of the night."

Louis strokes his hair. "Or maybe we don't gotta burn 'em. Maybe I'll give you till tomorrow morning to have just yours and my scent left in our nest." 

Lestat can arrange that. "Of course," Lestat agrees, up for the challenge. He kisses Louis's and insists earnestly against his mouth, "Of course."