tampered | Log: Completed

Log: Completed

When: New Year's Eve
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Gren (

notapreacher) and Lestat (

vampbratprince)
Summary: Mama, can you tell me how vampires celebrate New Year's Eve?
Log: For as long as he can remember, he's been the musical entertainment somewhere on New Year's Eve. Tonight's the first time in years (he discounts his time in the Army and in prison because those were out of his control) that he's not playing saxophone somewhere.

In a way it's a relief, and so is the idea of just staying in and celebrating privately. Oh, he can share the champagne that's chilling in the refrigerator and the exquisite chocolate truffles sitting out on the counter. In fact, he plans to do just that. There's a quiet burn of happiness that goes along with the whole notion and he remembers from the few creative writing classes he took to pass the time back in high school that in fiction they say happiness is boring and it's struggle that's interesting. He happens to be perfectly content to be as dull as possible so long as it goes hand in hand with happiness.

Screw what anyone else thinks about the two of them: he's never given much care for what anybody else might think about any of the things he does. There are really only a few people whose opinions matter to him. One is doing whatever it is she's doing tonight (and he hopes Julia is happy and she knows she's always welcome over here) and the other is already here.

They could join the festivities at Lux, and they just might. Then again, they might just stay right here and hide out together. It wouldn't be the first time.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"The black or the red?" He looks down at himself and has to laugh a little. He didn't dress to match the color scheme in their bedroom intentionally, but that's the way it worked out. And he turns so Lestat can get a better feel for the fabric from this side. Oh, there's no ulterior motive here whatsoever.

Nope. None at all.

In the background, some non-jazz music plays softly. It's a second-generation bluegrass band called Old & In the Way. But the changer's stacked with all sorts of music to keep them rolling in music for hours. Against the wall, the photographs from the wall on his other apartment -- the one that's empty with the keys turned back in as of today -- sit there waiting for a good place here. He hasn't decided if they'll go in the music room or the living room or in their bedroom. It's something they'll have to figure out together.

"Either but I was speaking of the red." Not that he's found a color that doesn't suit Gren anyways. That is hardly the point though. And hardly the time to be thinking about that.

Freely touching, he lowers his eyes to admire the workings of the clothes. The craftmanship on them is perfect for Gren's body. When his fingers reach his pants he hooks them and pulls the man closer. Just perfect. Smiling with all the mischief in the world in his eyes, he leans his head forward.

"What do you think of my clothes?"

He's not wearing a jacket like his lover is but that didn't stop him from wearing a silk shirt of royal blue with black pants. There is a ring on the middle finger of his right hand and the cross he was given hangs around his neck. He even unbuttoned the shirt enough to show that off.

"Let's see." Stepping back, he eyes Lestat up and down. Slowly, flirtatiously, from the top of his head with those blond curls to the shoes on his feet; he nods. "The blue sets off your eyes and makes a stunning contrast to your hair. The black grounds you, shows off how slim and fit you are. And the ring's a perfect match to the blue of the shirt."

Reaching forward, he lets his finger touch the silver cross. "And this thing holds a soft spot in my heart. I told you yesterday it looks much better on you than it does on me and I meant it. You want to know what I really think of your clothes?"

Grinning, he lets his hand drop slowly. "I think you look spectacular, and you're going to have a hard time keeping me away from you tonight." To prove it, he moves in for the evening's first kiss. "Just like that."

"I think I can live with that. Quite easily actually." As his own proof, he takes the next kiss. A slow one where he intentionally takes his time until he finally pulls away. Clearly pleased with himself, he snakes his arms around Gren again.

He could do this all night long.

He just might. "I may even have to test that theory when I can manage to make myself leave your side. Currently, I do not think I could."

Chuckling, he kisses Gren again. He loves to kiss him. He can't seem to tire of that either.

Just about every single day, he wonders what piece of luck fell his way to bring this to him. He's not going to look a gift horse in the mouth by wondering too hard: when Lestat kisses him for the second time he takes full advantage himself, wrapping his arms around his partner, holding him close. "You know what I think is going to make this the perfect New Year's Eve?"

Really, he's not that big on celebrating the night. It's just the switching of a calendar, just like going from one day to another. Neither of them are going to age; neither of them are going to grow old. It's helpful to measure the passage of time if they want to know how long they've enjoyed each others' company, but that's about it.

Endless, eternal: he's so in love that he really is thinking in terms of being this happy forever. The logical voice living in his head tells him that's simply not possible, but the optimistic and romantic part of him believes it's true with all his heart.

He likes listening to that voice so much better than the practical and cynical one.

He can think of a number of things that could answer that question. But, he wants Gren to answer it. So, he smiles instead with a curious tilt of his head to the side. "Tell me. What is going to make this the perfect New Year's Eve?"

Until he gets an answer, he kisses him again. This one softer and lingering. They really have all night to do this but he'll steal all of his opportunities when they are presented to him. It would be absolutely foolish not to do so.

"I'm curious now."

Lestat knows the answer he's going to give, he's sure of that.

"You're here." Feeling protective and possessive, he wraps his arm around Lestat's waist. "Seriously, I don't think I can leave your side. You're stuck with me right next to you all night." He doesn't know what year this City thinks it is and he doesn't care; it doesn't relate to his world anyway. He just wants to ring it in with the person he loves.

That's not too much to ask, he thinks. Fingering the collar of Lestat's shirt with his free hand, he tugs him over to the sofa. The dogs perk up and come over to join them and Luce gives them a look from her chair and Watt strolls in, back comfortably arched, tail high. The only one missing is Katan, and who knows? He might make an appearance before the night's through too.

It's just like a family. It is a family, and it's theirs.

That is one of the answers he thought of but hearing it is such a perfect way for his ego to be stroked.

With amusement making his eyes sparkle, he allows himself to be led over to the sofa. He never gets tired of the moments when Gren decides to take over as he is now. Petting each of the dogs as they come over, he gracefully spins and sits with Gren ending up in his lap. The look he gives clearly says how pleased he is with himself. And isn't the slightest bit afraid to show it off.

"I like the idea of you being next to me all night. I can just imagine all the fun we can have with you doing that."

Laughing, he guides Gren's head down so that he can kiss him. Again.

Since he's on the prince's lap already, he turns fully to straddle him. If it's up to him he'll stay glued to Lestat all night. Just like this: it will be perfect, and they're not expecting anyone to just show up and even if they do, they'll be able to get rid of them easily enough.

Tonight's for them. One hand drags over the nearest dog's head (Horatio, he's the tallest) but then he turns all his attention to the man right here with him. "Lestat. When I first got to this place I didn't know what to make of it. Everywhere I went, people already knew me and said I'd been here before but I didn't remember any of it. Half of them tried to hit on me. There were a few normal people in the crowd like Julia and Abby. Then there were the people I didn't want to see, like Vicious and Lin. And there were the people who wanted a piece of me, like Greed or even Luke, I think. And then there was you."

To show just how glad he is about that, he presses a fairly significant kiss to waiting lips. "Out of everyone here, I thought I would be the last one to end up with anything like this. I am so glad I put out a call for musicians and so glad you answered."

He can't imagine life without Lestat. Not any more.

"Did you know? Did you have the vaguest idea something like this would happen?"

The answer to that is so easy. He didn't even have to think about it. However, he just smiles and sits there in silence for a time. Looking at Gren and admiring his beauty. The straddling is just perfect and strong arms wrap themselves around a slender waist to make sure his lover doesn't go anywhere.

Even if he already knows that he isn't going to leave.

He keeps smiling as he gives Gren another kiss. It lasts and lasts until finally he pulls back with a smug look on his face. Tonight is going to be very enjoyable. He can already tell.

"Did I have any idea that this would happen?"

Another kiss.

"No. Not a clue."

Now that's a kiss, and he'd like more of those, please: the best thing about tonight beside the fact he's here with Lestat is that it doesn't matter what time it is. It doesn't matter when the clock chimes midnight: they'll do this at their own pace, in their own way, and whatever the new year brings, it will start in the best way possible.

"I love it when you do that. Hold me this way."

Tonight, he thinks, is a night for being as open and honest about every single thing he's feeling as possible. There's no reason for Lestat not to know exactly how much he's appreciated, and in every possible way.

"I'm so glad things worked out this way. My life finally feels whole again." With utmost fondness, he brushes back Lestat's hair, runs his fingers gently over one ear. There's not a thing about him he doesn't adore.

"And I love holding you this way. It all works out well in the end. Especially if it makes you whole." The memories showed him how broken Gren had been. To have him whole is an accomplishment.

Running his fingers through the long hair, he feels it run over his skin. He loves this hair. He has from the very beginning. It is so easy to imagine what it be like if he were to change him into a vampire. How it would be even more stunning. That won't happen though. Gren will not be a vampire of his making.

He decided that early on.

"I love everything you do to me."

Not bad for a human, he thinks. This much closeness ought to have started feeling saccharine and overwhelming, but it hasn't. This is different from anything he's ever known, and it's great, and he loves every single minute of it.

And Lestat loves what they're doing, and he's satisfied with this pretty domestic situation they have: what a surprise. But not really; he knows from what he's read and what he's been told just how important steadiness is to this man. He's yearned for it his whole life, really: it explains the 65 years with Louis and Claudia and the years with Nicki and the lifetime with Gabrielle until she disappeared. There's so much more he doesn't even know about yet, but he will. He has plenty of time to find out... provided the City doesn't take him away.

"You want to share some champagne and chocolate with me, love of mine?" He can give Lestat just a hint of what's there, of what it tastes like. Of course, if he drinks enough champagne he can share its effects too, in a different way. Maybe that will come later. If it does, it will bring a whole new meaning to the phrase drinking to the New Year. He'd be up for that.

That's such a sensual experience, and so personal and so private. He's never talked about it with anybody but Lestat, and he doubts he ever will.

Gren has such a talent for making offers he can't refuse. This is one such offer. Taking that flavor right off his tongue and off his lips is irresistible. He wants it.

"I do, angel of mine. Are you walking or am I carrying?" As if he's already made the decision for them, he starts rising to his feet. Carrying Gren is easy. And he can make it seem perfectly natural too. Despite the fact that his lover is slightly taller than him. As if he lets the height difference get in his way anyways.

"You know I will do either."

Tonight, he'll let himself be carried and as Lestat stands he wraps his legs around him like an overgrown vine of a kid. It's nice because he can keep up his kiss-assault on his lover this way and he does, all the way to the kitchen. Once they're there, though, he unhooks his legs and slides down, then grabs Lestat and pulls him close.

The word mine comes to mind.

The truffles sit in a box on the counter; he takes the champagne out of the refrigerator and uncorks it expertly enough. When the steam's done escaping from the top he pours some into a glass, takes a sip, savors it... and then swallows.

It's good champagne and now it's time to share it. Leaning forward, he gives Lestat a taste through another kiss. The night's being so beautifully indulgent so far and there's no reason to suspect it will stop being perfect any time soon. Hopefully, there won't be any curses at the stroke of midnight.

He's so used to Gren choosing to walk that when the legs don't come down he's actually surprised. However, he doesn't faulter and once they are in the kitchen he's surprised again when he's pulled close. It's not often that his lover is this...well, dominating. And he has no complaints at all.

The kiss he gives as he tastes the champagne makes that quite clear. He wants this and he'll encourage it in any way possible.

Gren's face is held between his hands as he fully takes his taste. And when he's pulling back, he's licking his lips.

"Delicious."

"Tell me when you want more."

Charlie Parker wrote a song called Lover Man in 1946 and every time he plays it or hears it -- the song's playing right now in the other room -- he thinks of Lestat. While it's true that Parker was high as the proverbial kite during the recording session, it's still one of the most beautiful and most enduring jazz numbers ever. There are no lyrics but it's full of feeling.

In a way it's a perfect backdrop to the night.

"If you thought the champagne was good, try one of these." Opening the box, he picks up a truffle, chews it slowly. "See if you like this one. It's coffee mocha." The chocolate's shared the same was as the champagne: with utmost attention to Lestat's pleasure.

Coffee mocha.

That's a flavor he's never tasted before. Slowly, he savors it. His tongue exploring every last crevice of Gren's mouth in order to obtain the flavor fully. It's...very delicious.

Sunlight and food. Those are the two things he misses about being human. Just those two things. One would think that with how he's such a sensual creature he'd miss sex too. He doesn't. Sunlight and food. Only those two.

"I like that one." His tongue lightly flicks across Gren's lips as if he missed some of the taste of the truffle.

"More."

Whatever Lestat wants: it's a little bit of a mantra for him and has been since the start. There are six precious truffles in that box and he has no idea what flavor any of them are; he asked to be surprised when he stopped back at the same chocolate shop he'd been to with Julia.

As if he's giving it utmost consideration, he picks another truffle carefully, going through the same routine he did the first time. They have to be chewed slowly for maximum... sharing effect.

This one's a raspberry chocolate cream; he doesn't tell Lestat that, though. They can have so much fun together while his lover tries to figure out the flavor.

"Try this one. Tell me what you think." He leans forward for another long slow kiss.

There was no flavor stated. Ah well. That isn't a problem. Leaning in, he starts tasting.

Chocolate. That's the first flavor he picks up on. After that there is a sweetness. Then something else. The sweetness is a cream. He know that. He's had it before. That last bit though.

He likes it but he can't figure out what it could be.

"Chocolate and cream. What is the other thing? I do not know it."

"Taste it again."

(It's a great excuse for another long luxurious kiss.)

"Raspberry. Before I knew you, my very first curse here was the ice cream one. I tasted like chocolate raspberry that day."

Now Lestat knows what that tastes like.

Fine chocolate tastes even better washed down with champagne; he takes a sip without really thinking about it. If Lestat wants more, he's perfectly capable of making that known. And won't that be fun if he does?

Raspberry. He will remember that.

Eyeing the sip Gren takes of the champagne, he waits patiently until the glass is out of the way. Without putting it in words, he leans in and steals a laced kiss. Sometimes, there is just no need for words.

Now is a perfect example of that.

"Hm, chocolate and truffles. I am liking this already."

And he needs one more kiss. One he goes right ahead and takes.

Hi, lover. This kind of indulgence is gorgeous and it's sweet, and whoever thinks Lestat's just some scary awful vampire is only seeing what's on the surface. Sometimes they only see what Lestat wants them to see. It's so satisfying to know who's under that facade. His hands find Lestat's now; he nods to the other room.

"Unless you want more truffles." He can manage one more, he's sure. "But I have to warn you, I really want to let my hands do what they're aching to do." It involves playing something, but that might not be the saxophone or the piano.

Truffles or Gren's hands. A difficult choice. In a way. After all, he doesn't even hesitate when he smiles and answers that he would love to find out what those hands have been aching to do.

Sooner rather than later.

"Come now."

A kiss.

"Show me."

That's easy and it's a good choice: he does lead Lestat into the other room but doesn't wait until they're even halfway to the couch before he reaches for that shirt and starts unbuttoning it. "Now," he says in a very matter-of-fact way, "some people would think oh, Grencia, can't you keep it in your pants? Button up. But they'd be missing the point. This isn't just about sex. It's about being close. Your clothes are beautiful and like I said, you're stunning in them. I can't help it if I prefer a little bit more of you showing."

Once the shirt's unbuttoned about halfway, he dips down and presses a kiss to the center of Lestat's chest.

He never said his hands worked alone. And anyway, last night Lestat took such good care of him: it's time to repay the favor. To make everything even and equal again: he feels much better that way.

No one can claim that he's only here for the gifts. In fact, it's his goal to give back more than he gets.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject