deathoftheauthor: (.51)
ʟᴏᴜɪs ᴅᴇ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛᴇ ᴅᴜ ʟᴀᴄ ([personal profile] deathoftheauthor) wrote in [community profile] citylogs 2023-12-19 06:03 am (UTC)

( The point still stands. Louis has only moments to wonder what that means, but it strikes him that Lestat isn't entirely teasing: that the idea occurred to Lestat first, and he isn't laughing about it the way he would if it were something completely ridiculous. The knowledge takes root in his chest somewhere near to his heart for him to think on later, in the quiet hours of the morning, when the two of them are tangled together as sleep softens the edges of Louis' thoughts and Lestat's heartbeat lulls him into peace.

But Louis lets out a brisk, sudden laugh as Lestat's hands settle at his waist, and he slinks obligingly closer. Their chests are nearly touching, hips lasciviously close; the absurd phrase leave room for Jesus springs to mind, and Louis almost laughs again. He sighs, his breath ghosting across Lestat's lips in the cool air, and the sides of their noses slide against each other in a near kiss.
)

Oh, but I shouldn't...

( In a tone that absolutely means: I need you to convince me to do it. Tempting the devil to tempt him back. )

They'll need me back at the end of things, I'm sure.

( But the food and drink preparations have wound down, and cleanup won't be for a while still... )

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