tampered | Log: Completed

Log: Completed

When; Late night, December 17
Rating; R
Characters; Lestat (

notapreacher)
Summary; There's a sudden lack of zombie activity, but there's still blood everywhere.
Log; Pace, pace, pace: Abby must be so sick of his pacing because she excuses herself to the kitchen. He can hear pots and pans banging around in there and she must be having fun with it all. For his part he's too unhappy to eat. What Lestat's out there doing is stupidly dangerous and he loves him for it.

It's Horatio standing up that first alerts him to the fact someone's approaching down the hall; the Colt is in his hand so quickly and if his heart still beat on its own it would literally be pounding to match the zombies trying in vain to get through their windows. So far the inside of the building has been free of them -- for the most part -- but caution's still the best course to follow. Lestat's been given permission to read his thoughts during this whole curse any time he's gone out; he sends him a message now on their own mostly private one-way network.

Lestat. If that's you, knock at the bottom of the door four times when you get close enough. Down low.

Horatio cocks his head, looks toward the lowest part of the door. As promised, towels are ready and a robe is waiting and the bath is drawn. All he wants is his partner back here safely and he's prepared to see him drenched in blood. In fact, he expects it. He expects to see it covering him from head to toe.

Fucking zombies.

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The blood from the cow has him drenched. It is going to stain these clothes for sure. Still, it was all worth it. The zombies seem to have come to an end and he is headed down the all towards his apartment. As he approaches he smiles then freezes at the thought he receives.

Knock? At his own door?

He has a key.

But, he humors Gren and dips down to knock four times at the bottom of the door. Then he rises again. Shaking his head, he takes his key out so he can unlock the door and go inside.

He'd really love to get out of these clothes. Sooner rather than later.

And get this picture from Sarah's goodbye inside too. He wants it on the wall as soon as possible.

Oh, Lestat. He's got the door open before the key can even touch it and blood or no blood, there's a huge embrace. When he stands back to look, it's worse than he thought: talk about dripping in blood.

It's not Lestat's blood. Not his blood, not his blood: that's the mantra and he's seen plenty of disastrous bloodbaths in his time. He carried fellow soldiers on Titan for miles with injuries that bled copiously and there's a certain mindset a person gets into when faced with something this surreal. They just do what they have to do, then go about their business, take care of things, move them along toward healing if possible, disposal if not.

"Here." There are towels, there's a robe, there's... a houseguest busy in the kitchen. "The bath is ready. Let's get you in there and cleaned up."

It's a start. "And sorry about the door thing. It's been a strange night out there. A few of those things still hadn't given up on the windows. It's quieter now."

It's probably okay for him to put the gun away.

"What happened?"

The embrace is a welcome surprise. He can hear Abby in the kitchen but his focus is on Gren. A grateful smile graces his face at the mention of the bath being ready. He's far from tired but this blood is making him dizzy from it's tempting smell. Blood. More of it...

Not now. He can feed later. Tomorrow.

"That's alright. Anyways, I spoke with Harry Dresden last night. He mentioned needing someone who could move very quickly. In a supernatural manner. I asked what for and he told me that he needed someone to lead the zombies to one place. I volunteered." He pauses long enough to set the picture of him and Sarah dancing on the stereo to hang later. "Tonight, I left once the sun rose. Taking a cow, I spread blood and flesh out for the zombies to follow. Harry had raised a giant dinosaur with necromancy to come and crush the ones I led to him. When the zombies began to dwindle down, I left."

Studying the tips of his hair, his brow rises.

"Apparently it really did get everywhere."

That's pretty amazing, actually, and he's both glad and regretful that he didn't get to see it. Some of those zombies could have been people he knows.

The picture gets a passing glance but Lestat's his priority. "Come on. I've got towels laid down the whole way to the bathroom. Let's get you in there." There's also a garbage bag waiting for those clothes. Cow blood: it's not very pleasant.

He'll take care of getting everything cleaned up. "Once you're settled I'll let Abby know what's going on, then I'll join you in there. Get the blood out of your hair." Odds are that Lestat would go to sleep at dawn and wake up tomorrow night looking perfectly fine without a single drop of blood on him, but there's tonight to get through first and they won't do it covered in blood, either of them.

"Fair enough?"

"Please." Sighing, he starts making his way towards the bathroom. It's taking all of his will not to give into the temptation of sucking the blood right off his clothes. The sooner they are gone, the better. "I need to get these off of me."

The jacket is already being stripped off and the shoes are abandoned when he enters the bathroom. Then he starts reaching for his buttons. Only then does he admit to what he's going through.

"I hadn't realized there would be so much blood to deal with. That is would cover me so much so that it wouldn't leave the air before my nose." Or make him hungry. Once it's away from him the temptation will lessen and he'll be fine. Until then, it is becoming obvious that it is beginning to wear on him.

"To answer you: yes, that is fair."

Okay. Change in plans. Shower first, then soak in the bath. That will get the blood off faster and by the time you get to the bath, you'll only be sitting in hot water." He won't take no for an answer; the shower doesn't take any time at all to heat up and he directs Lestat under that and quickly bags those clothes.

The water running into the drain is deep red: there's a lot of blood here.

"Now just... let me get rid of these, and I'll be right back." His own shirt will have to go too; Lestat was so soaked with blood and that hug absorbed more than he thought.

And that's just fine: they're only clothes. He adds his shirt to the bag, grabs another one out of the closet on the way by, buttons it hastily. Even though he's not supposed to leave the apartment he walks that bag down the hall quickly; old clothes disappear down the chute. That's one thing taken care of. Back inside he lets Abby know they'll be a few, then hurries back to Lestat's side. His help is not required, but his presence is.

He likes that.

Peering around the shower curtain, he nods. "I have good news: there's a clothes shopping trip in our future." The prospect certainly makes him smile. "Do you still want that bath? I'll wash your hair for you."

He's under the water of the shower before he can say no. However, he wasn't planning on objecting anyways. As the water pours down him, he sighs. The water beneath him is so read. But, he ignores it in favor of tilting his head back and just feeling the water on his skin. When he hears Gren return and the curtain shift, he turns his head to the side to smile at him.

"I would like that. Will you join me there?" His skin now looks as if there was never a drop of blood on it. Only the tips of his hair show evidence now. It clings there as if it doesn't want to leave him.

Running his fingers through his hair, he steps out from under the water. The knobs seemingly turn on their own to turn off as he gently kisses Gren. "I know you just changed your shirt but I wish to have you there with me." It's becoming obvious that the strain of fighting the blood temptation has lessened to a more tolerable point.

Then he looks at his hand and stares. That blood from his hair is there now. Lowering his hand, he decides to ignore the sudden urge to lick it off. After all, he isn't fond of animal blood.

He'll leave that to Louis.

It's so rare to see Lestat looking anything but his very best that it's almost shocking: his partner's tired. Distracting the zombies took a lot out of him and it might have been the effort or it might have been the proximity to that much blood. But he's been so well cared for all week and now it's his turn to make things even again.

"Of course I will." As he reaches for an extra fresh towel there's a sudden flicker; the lights go out.

The silence and blackness are absolute; he freezes.

"Lestat?"

Looking through the darkness, he tries to find the source. Nothing. His next option is to open his mind to the City. This power outage is everywhere. Not caring about his state of dress, he goes over to Gren and wraps his arms around him as his eyes continue to search around the bathroom. If there are any threats, he'll know about them.

His eyes narrow but his voice is calm and comforting. "I'm here."

He stays like this until the lights flicker back on. As well as the sound of...

"...ticking..."

At first he thinks he hears the beating of Lestat's heart because they're so close. But that's not it. It's the City clock: that's been silent all week. And if he blinks at the sudden intrusion of the lights, it must seem ten times as bright to vampire eyes.

"What just happened?" He searches Lestat's face for answers: he must have been listening, seeing what wasn't visible to mere humans.

He loves this city. He loves being here more than any other place he's lived, but that doesn't mean he trusts it.

"The clocks are fixed. The zombies are gone. Everything is being returned to normal. Injuries vanish. Those who were killed live again. Only memories remain of the zombies. Otherwise, there is no evidence."

His eyes are distant now as he listens to the thoughts of the people in the City. The zombies are gone. And so is the infection. It's all over. Suddenly, he starts laughs as he focuses in on Gren. "You're safe now. You can't be infected."

"You're sure." Of course Lestat's sure: he's listening to the City's heartbeat, its thoughts, its realities. Sometimes living with a vampire is so handy.

Slowly, a smile starts to form and it grows and turns into a laugh, and he's so delighted that there's only one thing to do with the relief he feels: he cups Lestat's face and gives him the most grateful kiss he's ever given.

And then he stops and pulls back.

"You taste like peppermint. Like a candy cane. How did you do that?"

"You taste like chocolate and something else. I should ask the same of you."

Curious, he leans in and steals another kiss. That something else isn't one he's tasted before. He's stolen chocolate tastes before but not this other one. Pulling back, he tilts his head to the side.

"A candy cane. I've never had one before. Is that really what I taste like?"

Before Gren can answer, he steals one more kiss.

The huge grin's still on his face. "Yeah, that's really what you taste like. Oh, City. Are people going to around licking each other again? And here I thought it was safe to go back outside."

For good measure, he lets his next kiss trail down to Lestat's neck. "I bet all your skin tastes like a candy cane." Now he kisses the knuckles on Lestat's hand: same thing.

"You said I taste like chocolate and something else?" Now he touches the tips of his own fingers with his tongue. "Oh. Chocolate mint. That's what it is. Maybe mint's a zombie repellent." He doesn't know about that, but he likes it. There's mirth in his eyes. "You'd... better try it again and make sure you like the flavor."

If this curse lasts for more than 24 hours, he won't mind so much.

"You'd better get these clothes off too. You're wearing too much." Not before he trails kisses along Gren's jaw. "It will be easier to get at the rest of your skin that way."

Chuckling, he starts attacking those buttons and only restraint keeps him from tearing them off. His lips move to one bare shoulder. "I like this flavor. And it's all over you."

This time he laughs as he goes back to stripping his lover until they are both standing there naked. That's much better. Smiling, he takes Gren's hands in his to guide him to the bath. He's not done tasting him yet but he was also promised that bath as well as a hair wash.

"Come here with me. I think we've been hit by another curse of sorts."

"Hmm." He's having a hard time not laughing over this one: he'll take tasting like chocolate mint over being at risk of infection and turned into a zombie any day. As they step into the bath together -- he wasn't lying when he told Abby that bathing with Lestat was really fun -- he's still smiling slyly.

"For you tonight and in honor of this latest curse, I think the peppermint shampoo's in order. Turn around."

The only real blood left is in Lestat's hair; that's got to go. Personally he doesn't mind blood. It doesn't make him feel faint or want to throw up or any of that stuff. He doesn't want to drink it but his lover does, and that's what it is. It's how he survives, so there's no point in being against it. Still, he'd rather not be bathing in it. There was a woman, a countess somewhere on Earth in eastern Europe, he thinks, who slaughtered young girls and bathed in their blood because she thought it would keep her young.

How convenient he's got another solution to that whole aging problem.

The shampoo smells like Lestat tastes and he's so glad to have this zombie thing over and done with: he could cry tears of happiness.

He's going to smell all of those bottles one of these nights. After all, he had no idea there was peppermint shampoo here. The scent of it is one he likes though and it clings to the air. Breathing it in, he leans into the touches to his hair.

"I like that shampoo. It smells nice. Something I have smelled before but I never grow tired of it." Once his hair is done being washed, he will go back to what he was doing before.

Tasting Gren.

Chocolate mint. He likes that flavor. That's something he decided the moment Gren kissed him. And his own skin tastes like peppermint. Clearly that is a flavor that is approved of.

Looking over his shoulder, he smiles wickedly at Gren.

"You realize that I will take full advantage of this curse, correct?"

"You realize that I will?"

It's better than mistletoe, better than zombies by far. Better than the ice cream curse but mostly because he didn't know what to do with that one; he was so new here. But now he's more used to this place, more comfortable in the City, immeasurably more comfortable in his own skin. He's stopped thinking of himself as a freak most of the time.

It's easy to do now that he's so very loved. He's always been fortunate to have the support he's had here. Julia's been a complete godsend, and Abby's been great. But neither of them are his lover, his partner. Something he thought he'd never have again.

The peppermint shampoo, when he uses it, makes his scalp tingle. It's nice every once in a while. To him, it smells like Christmas which was always his favorite time of year when he was little. It was so exciting, and he was spoiled by his mother. After his falling out with the Church the holiday lost a little -- no, a lot -- of its glow, and he hasn't celebrated it in years. They don't have a tree here, no ornaments, nothing of that sort. And he and Lestat have already exchanged gifts; he doesn't need to celebrate the actual day itself.

Tonight, though, they have every reason to celebrate. Not only are the zombies gone and with them the risk of infection, but it's shaping up to be a very flavorful night.

Gently, he takes Gren's hand in his and kisses his wrist. Still so very delicious. He's going to be having far too much fun with this curse. A pity it will be interrupted for a little while so he can sleep. But, he doesn't mind since Gren is his again once the sun sets.

"Are you almost done? It feels and smells nice but I'm ready to tackle you now."

He means that exactly as it came out. Kissing the wrist one more time, he releases it but then he looks over his shoulder again. That smile is still there and his eyes show that he's starting to get ideas for how he can handle this curse. A great many ideas. Slowly, he licks his upper lip before turning back.

"Hurry and I'll show you."

Well.

Because of that demand, he slows everything down. "Just rinsing out the shampoo. Close your eyes." Slowly, he dips the cup into the water and slowly, the water trickles over Lestat's hair. He repeats the whole thing two times, three, four, until there's no shampoo left.

He does have an ulterior motive; the longer he stays in this bath, the warmer he'll be. He doesn't mind being dead because it's what brought him here, but he gets tired of being cold all the time.

Finally he leans forward, presses a kiss to one tanned shoulder.

Peppermint.

"Now I'm done."

(They should tell Abby the zombies are gone.)

Frowning, he turns and straddles Gren's legs. "You did that intentionally slow." Then he seals their lips together as if to drag more of that wonderful chocolate mint flavor into his mouth.

Would the blood taste like the skin? That's a question that should be answered. Preferrably sooner. Leaning back, he takes Gren's hand and gently pricks the tip of one finger. The wounded finger then goes into his mouth and he starts to gently suck at it.

Blood laced with chocolate mint.

Smiling around the finger, he looks at his lover. He already loves where this is going.

A lot.

He wasn't expecting that: his flinch is entirely unintentional. It just startled him, that's all, and he watches Lestat taste his blood as if it's something new, something differe...

Oh.

Without saying a word, he smiles in a way he only ever does for his partner. No words are needed. His free hand wraps around Lestat's body; his own lips find skin of their own to taste. His neck, he thinks.

It isn't every day his lover tastes like candy.

He tilts his head to the side so Gren can get to his neck more easily. This is almost like a game. His approval is entirely unnecessary for it even if he gives it anyways. Healing the little prick to the finger, he licks his lips. Only a small amount was taken.

And he's ready for more.

Moving to Gren's wrist, he kisses it. No bites there. Only kisses. Slow kisses to freely taste every inch of skin.

He could really come to love chocolate mint by the time this is all said and done.

It would be overstating the obvious to tell Lestat how good he is at the art of slow seduction. He doesn't need to: it shows all over his face and he knows it. Every time Lestat's mouth moves, his own eyes close and he savors this. Savors every moment of it. Opens his eyes again, steals a kiss of his own, and then it starts all over again.

He loves this. It's designed to drive him crazy with desire and it works. It's a distraction, a blessing, an intimacy, their own private way of sharing. It works like a charm every single time.

Further up Gren's arm he goes until he reaches his shoulder. And from there his neck until he reaches his jaw then onwards to his lips. The curse has just begun but he refuses to waste any time. He meant it when he said that he was going to take advantage of this curse.

Pulling his lover's lower lip between his teeth, he licks slowly. Soon after, he's diving into another passionate kiss.

He might already love the flavor.

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