Chapter Text
Lestat dresses with barely contained rage. Louis lies in coffin, back turned to Lestat, not even acknowledging his presence. It is as if Lestat is a mere phantom, not existing at all for his morose lover.
“I suppose you will not hunt with me either?” Lestat almost hisses as he knots his tie.
Louis makes no reply, it is as if Lestat has not even spoken.
“Fine!” he shouts. “Lie there like the corpse you have become! I am going out!”
With that, he pulls on his jacket and storms down the stairs and out of the house, slamming the front door behind him. For a moment he lingers on the doorstep, wanting to go back to Louis, wanting to kiss him tenderly, make love to him, tell him how much he loves and adores him.
Instead, he walks down the stairs and makes his way to downtown, the sound of thumping hearts and veins filling his ears. He lets the sounds and smells of the humans around him envelop his predatory senses as he searches for someone to fuck and drain.
There is a new club open, a speakeasy which mostly African American clientele frequent. The music is upbeat, boasting the jazz of this age, and the mortals dance with little inhibition, illegal alcohol flowing like the rivers of Babylon.
As soon as Lestat walks in, many mortal eyes turn to him, from both men and women. He quickly spots a young man, eyes a grey green, with light brown skin and slicked back hair, dressed in a cream coloured three piece suit, who he knows will slake his hunger. For the evening at least.
He does not even have to really use the mind gift, just his natural charisma and charm, to get the young man to go into one of the back rooms with him. There, Lestat kisses him roughly, splitting one of those full lips, and then tonguing at the blood that oozes out. Then, easily due to his superior strength, he flips the other man around, yanking his trousers and underwear down to bare his round, firm ass. Spitting into his hand, he shoves two fingers into the boy’s tight, flexing hole. He gives a delicious moan at the rough treatment, pushing back onto the thick intrusion.
Stretching him quickly, Lestat is soon spitting into his hand again and using his pre-come to slick his throbbing cock. When he breaches the young man’s body, they let out twin moans, but Lestat’s is soon muffled by the blood in his mouth from biting the tender flesh of the human’s fragile neck. He has to be careful not to get carried away as he fucks the boy raw, drawing whines and whimpers of bliss out of him. If he squeezes his eyes shut, he can imagine this is Louis. The Louis of that time before this terrible misery, the terrible gap that yawns between them. The time before Louis brought home a child, charred and dying, and promised he would not leave him, never leave him, always be happy—
He pulls his fangs from the yielding flesh as the boy comes, clenching down on his cock. A few more brutal thrusts, and Lestat orgasms in long thick pulses, but the high soon fades, replaced by that same low, simmering anger he always feels these days.
After healing the wounds and wiping the young man’s memory, Lestat sends him back into the crowded club. He stands on the edge of the melee , lights a cigarette and watches the humans drunkenly paw at each other, laugh too loudly, and dance frantically against one another, as if they can delay the inevitability of their own unraveling mortality.
Then he hears it, a loud, familiar laugh, girlish, but with the unmistakable undercurrent of maturity. Of a woman trapped in a premature body.
Lestat looks over to where the band is playing, and beside the upright piano, dressed in a slinky gold gown that looks as if it was poured over her soft skin, is his daughter of the blood, Claudia.
Her long, curly hair is wound behind her head in a bun at her nape, and the front is crimped like a silent movie star. Her large, unusual eyes are lined in kohl, and her wide, full mouth is painted a bright, blood red. She is talking to some human boy with red hair, who is clumsily trying to flirt with her. Lestat can see that she has clearly decided that she will kill him before the night is over. She is a wolf looking at a poor, stupid sheep.
As he easily winds through the pressing crowd, a cloud of smoke hanging in the humid air, Claudia looks right at him, and glares. If looks could kill, he’d be six feet under. Ash beneath the heel of her pumps.
“How pleasant to see you here,” he snarks, exhaling streams of smoke through his nose, looking down at her. “And who is this?”
The red haired boy looks both confused and enamoured by the sight of two such beautiful people standing next to each, but Claudia is swift to crush any opportunity Lestat has to steal the boy away.
“None of your business. Why are you here? Louis kick you out?” she says the last part with almost vicious satisfaction.
Unable to fully tamp down his anger, Lestat closes his large, thick fingered hand around her upper arm, dwarfing the slender limb with ease.
“Come,” he nearly snarls, pulling her towards the back from which he only recently emerged. “I wish to speak with you, sister.”
Nowhere near as strong as him, Claudia has no choice but to stumble after him. Although she nearly hisses at his use of force.
The room he was previously in, is now occupied, and so he pushes her into what appears to be a space used for storage. He uses his mind to lock the door behind them, shoving her further into the limited space.
She looks at him with pure, heated dislike, her slender body tense with her contempt for him.
“What now, Uncle Les,” she asks mockingly. “You gonna lock me in here until I behave? Send me to coffin without any supper?”
Rage tears through him, and his hand shoots out, gripping her jaw, feeling the delicate flesh pulse and bone protest. His thumb presses to the side of her full lips, and her mouth opens on a shocked inhale.
“You gonna hurt me, too?” she demands, a slight tremor of fear in her voice.
At that, he makes to release her, but she clasps his wrist, and then does something that sends both utter confusion and arousal through him.
She draws his thumb to her mouth and sucks on it, drawing it into the wet heat. Her eyes flutters closed, and he can feel the press of her partially exposed fangs. He feels frozen, his feet rooted to the floor, unable to move.
“I knew it would be you,” she says, a smirk on her lips. “You’ve always had very poor impulse control, Uncle Les.”
Lestat wants to prove her wrong. He wants to turn away and go home, and make love to Louis, his husband, his immortal companion. He knows, though, that Louis will be entirely unresponsive, will only endure his touch out of some kind of self-imposed martyrdom.
He thinks about his mother, and how they felt about each other. How they always had such a close bond, a bond which he tried to extend through bestowing the Dark Gift upon her. He thinks about how she made him feel, how he hasn’t felt anything for so long. How he and Louis orbit each other, but never touch one another, how lonely his existence has become. How hollow he feels. How terribly numb.
Pulling her towards him, he kisses the smirk off of her face, forcing her mouth open with his tongue, feeling her arch against him. He can tell that she’s inexperienced when it comes to kissing like this, and that sends a small thrill through him. Makes his cock harden in his pants.
“I will only do this if you really want it,” he states, realising how doll like she is, how fragile, as his hands envelop her arms so easily. “I will not force you. I have never had to force a woman. I will not start now.”
For a moment she looks very young, despite the kohl around her eyes, and the rouge on her face. The dark red of her lipstick is smeared, mirroring how she looks when she feeds. It stirs something in him. The myriad of complex feelings he has for Claudia are so near to the surface, burning in his chest.
“Shut up and fuck me,” she almost spits, then lunges as him so their lips meet in a bruising kiss.
Despite being much larger and stronger, because Lestat is caught by surprise, he ends up on his back with Claudia straddling him. He pushes her backwards, his hand spanning the delicate curve of her jaw.
“Patience, ma fille,” he murmurs, tracing the line of her lower lip.
Those large, direct eyes of hers seem lit from the inside as she allows him to slide his hands up her thighs, over the silk stockings and under her dress. She’s wearing garters, but he soon discovers that she has forgone underwear. He gazes at her almost hairless cunt, and she makes an embarrassed sound at the scrutiny.
“Oh I forgot,” Claudia huffs, expression dark. “You don’t like little girls, do you, Lestat?”
He looks up at her face, holding her gaze as he says, “You aren’t a little girl, though, are you, my little gremlin? Isn’t that why you dressed like this?”
Pushing her dress up until it is bunched under her armpits, Lestat covers Claudia’s soft, pert little breasts, liking the feel of her dark nipples against his palms. They take up most of the small swells, and he wants to get his mouth on them.
“Take your dress off,” he instructs, moving one hand downwards as she pulls her dress over her head.
As she discards the glittering garment,Lestat parts her folds, looking at her slick, delicate centre. Claudia trembles, her hips rolling forward, little plush ass grinding against his erection.
“Come here. Sit on my face.”
Those large eyes gaze at him in bewilderment and trepidation, so he encircles her waist, his fingers overlapping, as he moves her forward. As she settles over his mouth, he slowly licks up her soaking slit, moaning at the sweet taste of her. He’s always enjoyed giving blow jobs and eating cunt, he’s honed his skills over the centuries so that he can give his partner’s pleasure. Giving them pleasure, gives it to him in turn.
As Claudia moans wantonly, he guides his hand upwards again, and kneads at her breast. Her much smaller hand covers his, and she grinds against his mouth and tongue, chasing her release. When it comes, he laps all of her juices up, moaning as he swallows. She gives her own breathy little moan at his continued ministrations.
Eventually, he lifts her up and lays her on her back. The floor is concrete, and even though he wants to fuck her roughly into it, he takes his jacket off and rolls it under her head. She frowns in confusion at the gesture, but says nothing, which is a relief, as he doesn’t want her to ruin this little bubble they are currently in.
Her legs spread wide as he settles between them, sliding his hands down her stockinged calves and thighs, which he grips with a force that no mortal woman could comfortably take. Claudia tentatively runs her slender fingers through his hair as he first kisses her slightly rounded belly, and then sucks one of her erect nipples into his mouth. She whines high and desperate as he laves his tongue over the supple flesh, her nails digging into his scalp, which he likes, he likes the pain, it makes him feel awake, present, which he hasn’t in so very long.
As she arches against him, soft thighs rubbing against the material of his shirt, Lestat slides a finger inside of her. She tenses for a moment, but he thumbs her throbbing little clit, and she relaxes by inches, until she’s welcoming the thrusts, moving to meet them. Lestat licks into her mouth, sharing her taste with her, as he pushes a second finger inside of her clutching walls.
“ Lestat,” she hiccups as he continues to open her up, knowing that even with this preparation, she’ll still be like a vice around his huge cock.
“Does it feel good?” he whispers into her mouth, licking her upper lip. “Have any of the little boys who fumbled with you in the dark ever made you feel like this, ma petite chou?”
Claudia shakes her head, making some strands fall out of her bun, face scrunching up in pleasure pain as he works in a third finger and curls them, dragging along her slick insides. Her fingers wind in his hair, tugging at the strands at he continues to finger fuck her to a second orgasm. Thighs shaking, she gasps and whimpers as she squirts onto Lestat’s four fingers stuffed inside of her throbbing pussy.
After he slips his fingers out of her, watching as she clenches at the emptiness, Lestat licks her come off of his fingers, making sure to get every last drop. His eyes are a darker blue in the low light of the store room, which now smells like her sex and his arousal.
Unable to restrain himself any longer, he unbuttons his trousers and pushes his suspenders down, so that he can free his cock from his underwear. He can’t suppress the smirk that blooms on his lips as Claudia’s eyes widen at the girth and length of him as he strokes his pre-come up his shaft. The foreskin is pulled taut over the bulbous head, and he hisses slightly as Claudia reaches out, hand tentative, and touches it.
“Put it in me,” she orders, in an almost trancelike voice. “Wanna feel it.”
With one hand, he lifts her ass up slightly, and positions himself at her soaked entrance with the other. As he pushes into her, he watches as her cunt opens up around the blunt head, stretching her to her limits. Letting out a series of breathy little “ ahs” Claudia grasps his now free hand, bringing it her lips, where she suckles on his fingers, eyelids fluttering as he works his way deeper inside.
“So fucking tight,” Lestat grits out against her heaving chest.
Looking down her body at where they’re joined, he can see that even though he’s right deep inside of her, there’s still quite a bit of his dick that hasn’t fitted inside. The sight sends a deviant thrill up his spine, making him speed up his thrusts, circling his hips. Claudia almost screams as he begins to rubs her clitoris, making sure to time it with his thrusts.
No longer able to hold back, he bites her right breast, just over her nipple.
“Oh fuck!” she cries out, letting go of his fingers, thighs tightening around his waist, hands clutching at his broad shoulders. “Jesus— mmmmmm—“
He shifts her hips up a bit higher, so that he can sink just that bit deeper, causing Claudia to arch as her eyes roll back in their sockets. Her already insanely tight cunt squeezes down on him, almost painful, but also so good in combination with her blood, which he hasn’t drunk since he brought her across the veil into the land of the undead.
He releases his fangs from her chest, lapping at the wound until it stops bleeding and the skin begins to knit itself back together. Always one with an oral fixation, especially for tits, big or small, Lestat sucks her other nipple into his mouth as he gives two more thrusts and orgasms harder than he has in some time.
When he comes down, the enormity of what he has just done slams into him like an avalanche. He pulls back and stares at Claudia’s face, trying to convince himself that this is some kind of hallucination, but she opens her eyes and meets his gaze. They stare at each other for a moment, until he tries to pull back, but she only tightens her legs around him.
“Claudia—“ he starts.
“Don’t,” she says, still not releasing her grip on him with her legs. “I want you to understand somethin’.”
Lestat knows he could simply pull back, shove her legs away and leave her there, like a used rag. But another part of him, a much bigger part, wants to know what new scheme she’s cooking up to torment him and inveigle herself between he and his love, Louis. Louis who has not wanted him one fraction as much as Claudia just did, even if for a little while.
“What?” he demands roughly, gaze hard.
“I want you and I to make this a regular arrangement.”
Blinking, Lestat cannot believe what he’s hearing, and then he bursts out laughing, covering his eyes with one hand to block out the angry expression on Claudia’s eternally childlike face.
“What the fuck are you laughing at?” she demands, clearly furious, and maybe rather embarrassed, too.
This time, it’s Claudia who makes to disentangle herself from their forbidden embrace, but Lestat mirrors her earlier movement of stopping his movement. He grips her bird boned shoulders, thumbs reaching down to her exposed breasts.
“And why should I oblige, my little monster?” he questions, brow quirked and head tilted.
“Because,” she smiles, fakely sweet. “Louis won’t fuck you, but you need some connection to him. I’m that connection.”
Even though she has a valid point, he refuses to acquiesce so easily, “You over-estimate yourself, dear heart. I love Louis.”
For a moment, hurt flashes in her eyes, and he regrets his cruelty, almost wants to apologise for how he continues to hurt both she and Louis. And himself.
But before he can say anything, she continues, “Give me this. Or I leave, and I take Louis with me. And you’ll never see him again, never-mind fuck him.”
His fangs drop, and his hands flex where they are spread out over chest, but he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, willing down the urge to lash out at her physically. To play into her hands. Again.
Opening his eyes and fixing his icy blue stare on her amber, rejoining with, “Very well. But it is my turn to set some rules.”
“Very well,” she echoes brattishly.
“You will never tell Louis about this,” he demands, all seriousness now. “It will destroy him, and we will both lose him.”
She nods, and he can see that there is no artifice in her expression, it is clear that she understands that he is right.
“And?” she prompts.
“And we only fuck when I say so. You may think yourself very clever, but I have more experience in these matters.”
“Clearly,” her tone is almost venomous.
“Lastly,” he pushes on. “No more fighting in front of Louis. We will act civil. Or our arrangement ends.”
Although she is clearly unimpressed, she nods again, but then asks, “How do I know you’ll keep your end of things?”
Unable to resist, he rolls his hips, his cock once again half hard inside of her swollen pussy, causing her to moan involuntarily.
“I think I have shown that I can keep my end of things up rather well.”
Rolling her eyes, Claudia pushes at his shoulder, “Enough. I need to feed.”
Despite his earlier attempt to leave, he is rather regretful at the loss of her tight warmth when he slowly pulls out.
They dress in silence, not looking at each other as he does up his pants and pulls his suspenders and jacket back into place, and she wriggles back into her dress and smoothes it down.
When they exit the room, Claudia goes ahead, letting herself get lost in the throng again, but just as she reaches the red headed boy from the earlier, she turns her head and looks at Lestat, seemingly unconsciously licking her lips. Lestat hangs back, watching as she whispers something in the boys ear, and leads him towards the doors at the front of the speakeasy. Lighting another cigarette, Lestat waits for a moment, before he, too, weaves his way through the humans.
On his walk home he thinks about what his mother used to say about forbidden fruit, once you have it, it is impossible to stop.