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

No, no, no. Don't stop. If he could, he'd let this go on forever. But he can't -- they can't -- no matter how much he'd like to. His hands don't leave Lestat's back even when he feels him pull back, even when he hears that sigh. No, he pulls Lestat back down, coaxes his lover's head back to where it was a moment ago.

Minus the drinking. He just wants the contact. He wants it to go on and on, and in the back of his mind he hears sounds from outside. Maybe someone's celebrating the new year with fireworks but he doesn't care. All he cares about is the thumping of Lestat's heart against him, the weight of his lover's body, the feel of that thick curly hair draping down.

It's lulling and relaxing and the moment is perfect, even when Katan (in a fit of bravery) jumps up on the corner of the bed and sits there, licking his paw as if he does this all the time.

While he's there, after being pulled back down, he seals the wound. The scent of blood still clings to the air but that is to be expected. He's used to it by now. After all of these years. Eyes still closed, he just breathes it all in.

Fireworks are going off outside. Well, those will last long enough for him to stay here in Gren's arms for awhile. He really won't be missing anything. If he were that desperate, he could see it through someone else's mind anyways. But, he's not. There's nothing to worry about. He's seen fireworks before.

"I like your scent. And I love having it all over my body."

"It's so nice to be wanted." It's not as flippant as it might sound. He means it, every word of it. Not being a vampire, he doesn't have that enhanced sense of smell but still, he'd recognize Lestat's scent. He breathes him in right now, so happy, so satisfied.

Even braver than before, Katan comes over to sniff the people on the bed. Again, he reaches out to let the cat smell his hand; after a minute or two of that he pets that odd hairless flesh. Katan suddenly loves it, turns upside down so his chin can get scratched, and purrs loudly.

"Hey. Boyfriend. We have ourselves a threesome."

Lazily, he moves his head so he can look at Katan with a smile. The cat has only ever done that for him. He's cruel to anyone else. Now, he has someone else to be nice to. Lestat has to admit that he's very pleased with that. Softly, he starts whispering words of French to the cat.

A thank you mostly.

"So it would seem. And he isn't wearing the sweater he has for the cooler months. I believe he's the only one ready for anything."

And he starts laughing.

That's funny.

"No, I think you're the one ready for anything. But I'm sure Katan appreciates the sentiment." Retrieving his hand from Katan and his claws, he cups Lestat's face and gives him a kiss.

"I think the appropriate thing to say is happy new year. But as you said, who gives a damn about the passage of time?" That's one thing they don't have to worry about.

Not until the City takes one or the other of them away. And then it will be impossibly hard on the one left behind, but isn't that the danger of getting involved with someone anyway? There's always a risk that goes along with it and he's so glad he took it. He's so glad that on that night in September, he invited Lestat to show him what it meant to a vampire to love somebody. Even if it was wrong and even if he stepped on other peoples' toes, he's still glad he did it. Call him selfish, but it was his turn.

His turn to know affection again. Now his hand goes back to Lestat's hair, playing with those curls. "I love you, and I think you should definitely kiss me again."

Time is one thing he really doesn't give a damn about. "Keep playing with my hair and touching me like that and I will do as you wish for the rest of the night." His laughter is soft and between them as he definitely kisses Gren again.

And makes sure that it is one that will leave Gren wanting more afterwards. He can easily provide himself as temptation. Without the slightest bit of shame.

"That is a promise, angel."

He will never get enough of Lestat. Never in a million years; his hands go back to their teasing and touching and stroking and combing through that hair and he loves this. It's indulgent and private and sensual and fun and relaxing.

"I'm all yours."

Despite Katan's proximity and his purring, and despite the fact that they'll inevitably have to get up and take the dogs out for a walk, and despite the fact that City life goes on around them, he's undeniably and a hundred percent as much Lestat's as he is his own.

"And that's a promise too."

If he's Lestat's angel, what does that make Lestat to him? The answer is this: whatever he wants. And right now he chooses him as mate. That, he thinks, is as divine as anything.

All his. He loves it. This is his angel and lover. And that angel lover of his is playing with his hair and touching him. Just as he wished he would. Who could ask for anything else?

"I like that promise. A great deal."

He's selfish and he knows it and doesn't care one bit. This will be how he will be. That hasn't changed in over two hundred years and it's not going to change now. Besides, Gren loves him for it so why should he change?

"Now...new year be damned, shall we celebrate the rest of the night away?"

"Yes." That's an unequivocal yes, completely without hesitation. As idly as possible and disturbing them as little as he can, he reaches over for that box of truffles. If he remembers correctly there are three left.

Three surprises. Coaxing the lid off, he works one out of the box and pops it into his mouth. A look of utter bliss crosses his face as he lies there, and honestly, it's as much from the position they're in as it is from the chocolate. But you can't go wrong with a good champagne truffle, especially not on New Year's Eve.

It doesn't take a whole lot of subtle maneuvering to convince Lestat he really ought to kiss him again and do it right now. He's sure this flavor won't be too hard to place, but he might be surprised.

Another truffle means another kiss. Well, if Gren insists. Leaning down, he takes the kiss and pauses as the flavors hit him. Chocolate and champagne. A champagne flavored truffle.

He tastes again to confirm it. And because he just wants another kiss.

"Champagne?"

He can't help his curiosity coming through.

"And I didn't even request that flavor." One leg wraps around Lestat's, and his hands don't stop what they're doing either. There's no reason to move, to cut anything short. This is so perfect, living here, and he loves everything about it.

It's the best he's felt about himself in years.

"What do you think?" About the truffle, about this position they find themselves in, about the night, about anything and everything. They're both curious people; it's one reason they get along so well.

The fact that Lestat's incredibly sexy doesn't hurt.

"I think that I'm becoming very fond of champagne again. And, I also think that even if I wanted to I wouldn't leave the position that I'm in now." Those are two thoughts. He has plenty of others. They will be shared as the night goes on.

Kissing Gren again, he starts threading his fingers through his hair. This is another favorite activity of his.

"Tell me what you are thinking right now. I want to know."

"Right now?" That's easy. "I'm thinking how much I love being here. Living here, being with you, so glad for what we have, so thrilled for the opportunities."

That's it, really. There are background music and lyrics, of course, because his thoughts are always infused with song and have been since he was tiny. Since he was four and first banging away at the piano.

"And, as always, I'm thinking how much I want you all the time, and how greedy that is and that I don't really care about whether or not I'm greedy when it comes to you."

His fingers toy with strands of yellow hair. "And about how pretty your hair is, and how good you make me feel, and how amazing it is that Katan's sitting on the bed with us like it's something normal for him, and how if I could, I would have you drink from me any time you wanted. Every day if you wanted to. Things like that."

It makes his mind seem like such a busy place.

Laughing, he presses a kiss to his forehead. "Your mind can be as busy as my own. All those thoughts flying through there. However, I like that you tell me what you are thinking. It means more than me reading your mind."

It's more intimate that way. That is probably why. It is so easy for him to find out the truth by reading a mind. However, when someone tells another something one can only guess if it the truth. He knows that Gren will tell him the truth. He can't help but to smile as he brings some of the dark hair to his lips.

"And your mind is just as beautiful as your body."

Words like that usually lead to him being called a flirt. He'll welcome that.

He is flirting after all. It would be a tragedy if he didn't flirt with the man who is his lover. Especially after he has called him his angel.

"You think so?" Now, just a little bit sly, he leans back and pulls over a pillow, stuffs it behind his head, rests his hand beneath it. He recognizes exactly what Lestat's doing and he loves it. Flirtation's great. It's fun and sweet and silly and seductive, and it's perfect post-satisfaction lazy teasing behavior.

"You're a flirt, Lestat. And you're really good at it too." The one hand still playing with his lover's hair moves lower, sneaks down his back to his bottom, holds him close. "And there's even more good news. It's past midnight and I don't feel cursed and you're not acting like you are, unless there's something you're not telling me. And if you are, I'll kiss it all away. Do you want any more champagne?"

On the side of the bed, Katan stretches out his paws one at a time in that way cats have, and gives a mighty yawn before hopping down off the bed and disappearing somewhere.

"Champagne and kisses as a cure for curses. You should try it. After all, we are going to want to make sure that I'm not cursed on the first day of this new year." The date is suddenly becoming a pleasant excuse. Despite the fact that he doesn't need one to begin with. He does have one idea though...

"Come. Let us relax on the roof while we watch the fireworks. We can can bring the champagne and truffles with us. That way, we can have privacy and a show." Chuckling, he tilts his head to the side.

This has all kinds of possibilities. "What do you think?"

"I think you're brilliant." He hasn't actually gone to see fireworks in a long time. Part of him says he saw enough explosions of all kinds on Titan, but at some point he needs to just let that go and enjoy things again the way he used to. This relationship has already helped him immeasurably as far as that goes.

"There's only one problem I see with that plan. We're going to have to move." At the moment he can't, not that he'll ever complain about his lover lying on top of him like this. Idly, he wonders if Lestat's ticklish and can't imagine why he hasn't found that out by now. He will sometime. It's a good thing to know.

"Only for a short time. I move quickly." Grabbing the champagne (he figures they really don't need the glass) and the truffles, he slides off Gren and wraps long arms around him. With a laugh, he whispers his usual thing of 'close your eyes' before moving quickly through the apartment to the closest window.

Upwards they rise until they get to the roof of the building. He settles them onto their feet before letting go. The truffles and bottle are still in his hands as he watches more fireworks explode in the sky. Laughing again, he pulls Gren to him for another kiss. "Just look at the sky and how beautiful it is lit up like this."

And cold: he huddles close to Lestat. Apparently dead people can get cold and when he forces breaths, little huffs of steam escape his lips. But he has to agree; the sky is beautiful lit up in an absolute fantasy of changing colors reflecting on the snow below.

This is the first time he's been to the rooftop of this building. On his own, he can't fly. Oh, he could climb up -- he really doesn't like elevators any more than he likes subway cars -- but he hasn't.

It's pretty.

(And cold.)

Grinning, he leads Gren over to an area of the roof where he can see a pile of wood. He's not wearing a shirt. But, he doesn't need one. Nor does he need the heat. Gren does. Eyeing the wood, he sets it on fire. The man who had left it here wouldn't need it now that he had 'better things to do'.

Sitting, he pulls his lover close to him as the fire builds up. "I was prepared." As if he planned it.

Which he didn't actually.

It ought to frighten him -- honestly -- that the man he sleeps with can set things on fire with the power of his mind, or whatever it is he does. But it doesn't frighten him and, grateful for the warmth, he holds his hands out to the flame.

"And you're not cold. At all." Of course he isn't, and he's also not worried about getting close to the fire. He would never let anything happen to Lestat on his watch anyway. It's time for more champagne. He sips, he shares. Sips, shares. It's the best way he can think of to drink it.

Overhead, the fireworks turn the sky red then green then blue before they vanish in a pop of bright white light. Hopefully the dogs aren't too frightened back inside. When he was little, his dogs always hid at fireworks or in the rare case of thunder.

"No. I'm not. It's part of accepting that I'm a vampire." Falling back into the snow on the roof, he feels the way it is cold beneath him. His eyes reflect the colors in the sky as he watches the explosions. The last time he saw fireworks of any kind was when he was in his world. And he's seeing them again with his lover, sharing champagne kisses.

He stops looking at the sky and looks at the man next to him instead. "I've decided something."

A smile fully of mischief toys with the corners of his mouth.

"Want to hear what it is?"

He recognizes that look on Lestat's face even if he's not quite sure what it is this time, but there's some sort of fun trouble brewing.

"Of course I do."

It could be anything from I like truffles to I'm leaving you, pack your things and get out. He really doesn't know, although he doesn't expect to hear the latter of those statements.

As impatient as his partner ever is, he nods. "Tell me what you've decided."

"I've decided you're more beautiful to look at than the fireworks. But to see you with them going off behind you is an image I won't be forgetting." Rolling onto his side and leaning on one elbow, he continues. "And it's more than love enhancing you for me. You were this beautiful before then and will always be this beautiful."

There's one more thing that he's decided.

"And, you should eat another truffle so you can surprise me with another flavor. I don't need the excuse but I'll make it anyways. Besides, I'm curious."

That's pure flattery but he'll take it: the words make him smile and cold or not, he plants his hands on the snow on either side of Lestat so he can deliver a pretty perfect if truffle-free kiss.

"That was the warm-up kiss." Now he opens that box and picks out one of the remaining two truffles. It's a dark chocolate one from the looks of it and he has no idea what's inside until...

Oh. This is his favorite and he didn't even know they made Mayan chocolate truffles at that place, the ones infused with hot chili. It's so good that he almost gets distracted but at the last minute, he leans forward again and gives a very thorough, very Mayan chocolate-laden kiss to his boyfriend.

It's a little... hot, if he does say so himself.

Because of the spice.

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