tampered | Log; Complete

That voice: it's so loud it almost hurts. As he opens his eyes -- the colors, so vibrant! and everything is absolutely humming with electricity, with motion, almost like looking through a prism -- he sees a head of dark hair. Where's Lestat?

And what's going on?

And then... then... Chocolate. I must have chocolate.
Your pride will be your downfall, knave!
Where am I?
All right, people, the joke's over! Where's my car?
...teach me something equally malicious, mmkay?
You take bath!

And on and on, there are so many voices in his brain. His hands go to his ears -- what's this? his skin's warm? -- and when he clenches his teeth to try to quiet the noise he feels a stab of pain to his lower lip and tastes blood. It tastes good, and he has a moment's panic. He told Lestat back before they even started seeing one another he didn't want to be turned into a vampire!

"What's going on?"

And what's going on again? That's not his voice. Why is he looking at himself?

Ah yes. The voices of the people around him. He rises to his feet. What an awkward process that is. He wobbles for a second then goes over to Gren...or him...or rather Gren in his body. Those powerful ears will hear him even when they are covered as they are now.

"Gren. You are in my body. We've switched. Now, I need you to focus on silence. Complete and utter silence. You are hearing the thoughts of the entire City. If you have to focus in on mine. You can hear mine as well. Since I am closest to you those should be the thoughts you hear the most clearly."

His hands rest on Gren's shoulders. He knows exactly what is happening here.

"Focus on silence or focus on me." I'm here. Right here, Gren.

"Switched?"

He can hear everything and see everything and his heart... it's beating; he can hear and feel that, too, and...

I'm here. Right here, Gren. Lestat might sound like him when he talks, but his thoughts sound like his usual self and that's a relief and as good as any anchor. He reaches forward, tentatively, to touch Lestat-in-his-skin: he's cool.

Of course he is. That body is dead.

"How did we... oh." It's been so long since he was cursed, he hasn't even been thinking about it. "Thank..." Can he say thank heaven when he's in a vampire's body? Of course he can; he's Lestat de Lioncourt. He can do whatever he wants. "...heaven we swapped with each other. I wouldn't have liked to open my eyes and see someone besides you in my arms. Or have anyone else wear my body." That would have been a catastrophe.

My bond and my nature. Gone. "Marishka has no powers."
Abby, I lo....what the hell?! "Carlos and Abby swapped bodies too." Also, apparently, they've just had sex for the first time; he wishes he wasn't listening to that.
CATS CAN'T SPEAK!!! "Sayori has a daemon."
I have found that it is most interesting to converse with people whose interests differ from my own in some way. "Data's assessing his personality from network-based quizzes. Lestat, how do you keep from hearing this all the time?"

Everything is glowing. Pulsating with life, with energy, with color: it's beautiful and frightening and he's not sure he'll be able to stand it for twenty-four hours.

He's been ignoring the City so it's surprising to hear Gren tell him everything that is going on. These are things he usually knows. "That's the silence I was talking about. If you focus on it then you can filter everything else out. Or, if you listen to my thoughts and mine alone then all the rest will seemingly melt away."

It's never an easy thing. I've had practice where you haven't. But if you can filter out the City then you'll be able to get used to everything else. It will become natural. Of course, we'll have to get you used to it but we have time. And I am here and I won't leave.

It isn't like he could right now anyways. He can barely manage to walk or stand yet.

Now, focus on me. Only on me. I don't mind if you listen to my thoughts. It will help you filter out everyone else that way.

"Okay. I'll focus on you." But he can hear Katan purring in the closet, and in his sleep, Horatio thumps his tail, and he's so aware of the flatness of this body's chest, the way the clothes fit like they're supposed to, and he looks up into Lestat's -- his own -- face. "This body. Your body: it's so calm, so fluid, so graceful. Moving takes no effort." He studies his hands as they move back and forth through the air; the fingernails look like glass and the movements are so exquisite. "Mine must make you feel like you're slogging through quicksand in comparison. And here I am being so selfish. Are you okay?"

It's almost too scary to reach out and touch his own face, but Lestat's in there and ultimately that's why he does it, cupping one cheek with the palm of his hand. And because he can, he says something so very Lestat it makes him laugh: "Look at me. I am beautiful."

The you you're looking at or the you inside of my body? He smiles then laughs. Gren is calming down now. That's a relief. Everything else, mainly the advanced senses, will just take some getting used to. That's all there is to it.

"Of course you're beautiful. Now you just get to see what I see." He wobbles for a second and his eyes widen before he regains his balance. "I am not used to your body yet. It is always easier to adjust to a vampire body than it is for a vampire to adjust to a human body. At least it's one I am intimately familiar with this time."

He reaches out to touch his own lips. "At least you don't require blood. The only problem will be that you'll know my craving for it."

"And you won't crave it at all. You'll get to eat all the food you want, though, and drink all the liquid you want, and... I'll get to share it with you the way we usually do, but the other way around. I promise I'll take very good care of your body."

One thing he won't do while he's borrowing this body is play the saxophone. Or the violin, even if he could master the skills required instantly. But no, that's Lestat's instrument, and his is... off-limits for anybody else, and he's not himself tonight.

And curious though he might be -- some elements of Lestat's personality are contagious right now -- he's not going to drink anyone's blood either... even though his own tasted good.

"And I'd kiss you, but that almost seems like it would be the ultimate in narcissism." Somebody else here probably wouldn't mind that, but...

"To hell with that." Holding his own face between his borrowed hands, he presses their lips together. It's like kissing himself somehow but the sensation is one he doesn't mind. Nor does he mind that even if Gren is in his body he's still so attracted to him.

Pulling back, he grins. "If you're going to be hesitant about things in a body made to be dominant then I'm going to have to take care of everything myself. Whether I have balance or not."

One of the dogs bumps his leg and he wobbles again before falling against Gren.

(It's so much easier to think of it that way.)

"Hello there. When I have better balance we won't have to meet like this, angel."

"I've been in this body for all of five minutes. Give me a little time to get used to it." He's not Louis, but he's also not a vampire. He's just getting a sneak peek at what it's like to be one.

Maybe he can do that trick if he focuses enough and stops hearing Anita as a little girl and Menolly as older and all the secrets people are spilling and the intimacy and the fear and the babble and

(focus, Gren)

There's one very good way to do that: Lestat's already in his arms, so he steals a kiss. A more exploratory one than the kiss he just got: his boyfriend's always telling him he likes the way he tastes and now's his chance to learn what that means. Eyes closed -- at least at first -- he kisses Lestat with great curiosity. There's so much desire that it's almost overwhelming, but this body doesn't react like his own. All the reaction is ethereal, emotional. No less strong for not being physical, although it's certainly a pleasurable experience. It's just that the pleasure is on an entirely different level. It's sensual at the deepest meaning of the word: all his senses are activated by it. The kiss is sound and smell, it's taste and touch, and when he opens his eyes, the look on Lestat's face -- his face but not -- is breathtaking.

And he has to breathe, and his heart beats of its own volition, and it's all so beautiful that he does the whole thing again and a third time and a fourth.

That's more like it.

It's so easy to forget how humans feel during a kiss. Recent experiences can remind him through memories but for the most part he just forgets. Now, he's feeling it again. And now he knows why Gren is always melting with kisses. He's wondered many times before. When their lips part the first time, he can't help looking into his lover's eyes with lips parted and desire heavy on his face.

Then more kisses follow and he wraps his arms around Gren to keep him close. This time he's the one who is slightly taller and it's a new experience. One he's decided that he doesn't mind at all. The ultimate in narcissism and he just doesn't give a damn about that.

Finally, he pulls back grinning. "You're using my body well. You're even mindful with your teeth." He presses his body against Gren's and marvels at how different the pressure is against his chest while feeling so right at the same time.

"What do you think of kissing from within my body?"

"It's a whole new experience." It's exotic and emboldening, and this body is so strong -- he knows that from being on the receiving end of its embraces and other... talents -- and because he can, he picks Lestat up, twirls him around once before setting him down again. "You're light as a feather. I can see how this kind of power could just go to a person's head." The more he thinks about it the more impressed he is with Lestat for showing the restraint he does, although he supposes that after a couple hundred years, even these things would become routine and dull.

There are other things besides kissing he'd like to try from within this body, but there's no telling how feasible they might be. "The way this curse worked is a little bit of a gift, you know? How many people get to test-drive being a vampire while their lover gets to test-drive being him?" The voices of the City and its thoughts come back, but he's getting better at shutting them out: this body learns just as quickly as his normal body reacts and he knows on an intimate level just how filled Lestat is with all kinds of human desire right now.

He should do something about that. And he will, before the night's through.

"How do you like my body? What do you think?" He runs his hand over Lestat; he knows exactly where that body likes to be touched and for how long.

This is so strange.

The last thing he was expecting was to be picked up. Still, he can't help laughing about it. It's so strange to be in a body so weak. That's not to say it isn't strong. By vampire measures though, it is 'light as a feather'. He knows that because he's lifted it before. The power going to one's head is another thing he knows well.

"A gift, hm? Perhaps my powers are going to your head." He would have laughed again, if he weren't suddenly distracted by the way Gren is touching him. Leaning into the warm hand, he feels that desire grow. His lover is really enjoying this. And he's loving the way Gren knows exactly how to manipulate this body like he is now.

"I love your body. And don't you dare stop doing touching." This may not be his body but he's not going to be any less demanding. He loves taking advantage of situations he's placed in. This is definitely worth that love. "Your body is sensitive to touch and I want more of it."

Now.

The demand makes him laugh. Lestat may be wearing his body, but not his personality. It's different, holding the balance of power, and he's not going to complain about that at all.

"Oh, I know just how sensitive my body is to touch." His hand moves from Lestat's shoulder to his chest, lingers there. "Imagine going three years without it. Imagine how starved you'd be for contact once somebody finally broke through that barrier, the self-imposed isolation. You'd be like a kid in a candy shop, craving more, more, more." That's what he was like that first night. And every night since, really: he can never get enough.

And apparently Lestat feels that same way. At least he does tonight. His hand skates lower, down to the belly, before snaking around to the small of his partner's back. This way he can pull him closer, press against the length of his body.

He craves that neck... in a brand new way. There's blood flowing just beneath the surface and he's absolutely mesmerized by the thought. It's like he can see it right through the skin.

Now he understands why Gren always melted when he talks like that and touches him like this. He's barely paying attention to what he's saying. It's too easy to be distracted. It feels so good. His eyes are half-lidded now and the eyes he's looking into are glowing. It's so exotic.

And, he knows the look he sees in those eyes. The way they focus on his neck. He knows exactly what Gren is feeling right at this very second. His lover wants his blood. It's part of being a vampire.

Smiling lazily, he touches his face. "You want it don't you?"

He doesn't even have to ask. That he knows. Yet, he's asked anyways. That desire is obvious. He's felt it every time Gren moves his hair away from his neck. Gently, he presses a kiss to his lips.

"Do you want to? I can guide you through it."

"You sound like me." He knows exactly how he feels in his own body when Lestat drinks his blood, but is that a line he wants to cross? In one way it would satisfy so much curiosity -- he'd know how Lestat feels when it happens -- but then again, drinking blood?

Best to be honest.

"I'm not sure. Do I crave it? I'm in your body. You don't have to be a mind-reader to answer that question. Do I want to? That's something different altogether. Let me think about it." It's disorienting enough looking at himself; he's not sure he can handle drinking his own blood.

Or anyone's, for that matter.

"Are my eyes doing that... thing yours do? I don't know if I've ever told you how beautiful that is."

"Glowing? Yes. They do that at times when the light hits them right or if I desire something. You do now. I can see it. It may be you in there but I know the tempation. It starts when the eye sees the neck. Then the desire grows in your stomach and rises into your heart until it burns with want. It is possible to resist the temptation but it never goes away."

He smiles and wraps his arms around Gren's neck. "It's not like I can force you to do it anyways. I only offered since I know what to do and you do not. But if you're seriously going to spend the time thinking about it then you had better kiss me while you do. I don't want to just stand here waiting for you. I'm too impatient for that."

His smile grows. None of his words or movements will really excite Gren's current body physically. But that doesn't mean they won't excite it anyways.

He always imagined resisting the temptation to drink was a little bit like going to a casino and not dropping a single coin into a slot machine. It can be done, but it takes will-power. In a way he was right about that, but in another way he has to laugh at himself: it's more than just temptation. It's a primal urge. It's like a human getting up in the morning and having to pee, crass as the comparison might be.

"Oh, Lestat. What a beautiful conundrum you are." Laughing, he backs his partner over to the bed, pushes him against it and once he's lying down, straddles his body and dips down for that requested kiss.

"There. Now you're not just standing there waiting for me." He's hungry, but not for food. Tonight, he's hungry for experience: there's a limited amount of time to be spent in this body and so much he wants to do while he's got the chance. And he's not the only one in a new body.

"How are you doing in that slow awkward human body of mine? What do you want to do with it? Tell me." Because he's here and because he can and because everything he touches or sees or breathes in or hears or tastes is so seductive, he lets his eyes close and his hands explore the body beneath him. It's so different seeing himself through someone else's eyes. He's just glad they're Lestat's.

"I'm too busy trying to think. You're distracting me with all these touches. Despite that, don't stop touching me." Arching his back he encourages Gren. He can think just fine. Since Gren is so focused on him, he probably knows that too. "I am trying to figure out how you don't go crazy with how sensitive your body is to touches." Then he gets an idea.

"Touch my neck. It's always your weakness. I want to see what it is like." It's so frustrating to be this vulnerable but what's more maddening is how much he's enjoying it. He can't be in control and he's demanding that Gren take advantage of what he has now. His lover didn't call him a beautiful conundrum for nothing.

And his body is reacting the way all human bodies do. Demanding more but somehow not getting enough. You're thinking about this being your body too much. Just accept that my body is yours for the day and work with that. If you didn't have me so distracted and needy, I'd do the same.

The thoughts come through loud and clear, leave him laughing. He traces a finger down the long valley of the neck on the body -- not his body, not today -- below him, and follows it with his lips. Just because they've switched bodies doesn't mean he can't remember exactly how erotic those types of kisses are; he does his best to mimic what Lestat usually does for him.

It's surprisingly easy, just like it would be surprisingly easy to "slip" and drag his teeth across that skin too. But he doesn't; he hasn't decided yet if he's going to give in to that particular temptation. And because he hasn't decided, he teases Lestat instead, liberally peppering him with kisses and caresses and he may be in a vampire's body but he's got some very human touch-centered memories and knows what kind of touch the body below him desires. He suspects that if he concentrates enough, he could will the buttons on that shirt to open in much the same way as he can will the door to this room to lock. All he has to do is think about it -- and that helps quiet the voices from the City as well -- and when he hears that telltale click of a metal bolt, he smiles against that long human neck.

Lestat might not have heard that.

"I think I know just what that body you're in needs." There's no further need for delay; warm deft vampire hands make short work of buttons and zippers and clothes and do exactly what the moment calls for.

He sees his own body lying next to him on the bed through Lestat's eyes but not through Lestat's thoughts. With one eye open he studies the outline of that chest, those breasts, the shape they take, the way they flow into the rest of the body. He's never looked at himself with such an objective eye before; he hasn't been able to. It is a unique body, easy to admire from a distance. If it wasn't his own and if his lover wasn't inhabiting it, would he feel the same way? He doesn't know and isn't likely to know.

What he can do is bring the blanket up so his partner doesn't get chilly. And after that, he presses a kiss to his cheek. "This is twice you've turned human on me. Tell me, how was that? Did you enjoy it?"

He's still toying with the idea of drinking. It hasn't been far from his mind this whole time.

He doesn't want a kiss to his cheek after all that. Pouting his lips, he rolls onto his side and seals their mouths together. Did he enjoy it? Of course he enjoyed it. What kind of a question is that? A good one. But he's human and he wants. He doesn't know how much this body can take but he's an immortal soul inside of it.

"This is the first time you've turned vampire on me." Gren may control the body he's in but he knows that he hasn't fully adapted to it yet. Using that to his advantage, he rolls him onto his back and rests on top of him.

"I think I'll stay here for a bit. It's comfortable." He's feeling lazy and satisfied. His fingers find Gren's lips and start tracing lazy patterns along them. "You're warm. I know that's entirely my doing but still. It feels nice."

"Watch out, I'm getting spoiled. I'll feel awkward and graceless in my own skin come midnight." His arms wrap around Lestat and hold him close; he doesn't have to read thoughts to know exactly how that body's feeling. Sated, tired (but in a good way), relaxed, and still filled with longing for more and more and more. There's no such thing as making up for lost time, not really. He's always been someone who's liked to push the edge, to give -- and take -- more than most.

Now, in this oddly aphysical vampire's body, he kisses Lestat's fingertips. "And you want more. You want to keep going all night and you know if our bodies were switched you could do just that. But you're stuck with a brand-new vampire who's having a hard time resisting you, but doesn't know how to measure how much is enough and how much is too much." Inside this immortal shell, he's still so very human.

He doesn't know if he wants to keep resisting. He does know he doesn't want to harm that body.

"I want you to have what you want. Just like always." His eyes must be glowing again; he can feel the desire welling up inside him and it's like a beacon he can't ignore.

To hell with caution; to hell with fear. "So teach me how to give it to you."

If those words aren't just sexy as hell then nothing is. Grinning, he tilts his head to the side and shakes long hair away. It's a beautiful presentation of his neck. It's what Gren often does to him. With the eyes of a predator, his lover will focus on right where the vein is.

You can find where the vein is. There is no heartbeat for you to follow but you can find it. Your fangs are sharp. They'll pierce cleanly through skin. When you bite, you'll know instinctively how much you're taking. This blood will start to cloud your mind but if you continue to listen to me you'll still feel the instinct.

He should be nervous. That would be the natural reaction. Instead, he's just eager.

Take small sips. It will keep you in control. When you've taken just a little bit more than one would give to a hospital then pull back. Bite your tongue and lick the wound you've made.

All of his instructions are provided with images. Do it like this. It will feel like this. They're all his memories and after years of experience, he knows what to show Gren to teach him. While his lover is in that body, he'll remember those images perfectly. He knows that well.

"Now, come. I'll only feel a momentary sensation of pain. Then it will be replace by sensations you are already familiar with. I'll keep thinking to you the entire time."

This is... exotic, erotic, thrilling, tantalizing. Gren-the-human would hesitate. Gren-the-vampire doesn't: there's something about this body that fills him with an almost supreme layer of confidence. So what if he has no idea how much one would give to a hospital? He's never made a study of blood-giving, but he knows that he'll know. He just will. As he draws closer to Lestat's neck, he knows exactly where the vein is. Of course he does; it's his own neck he's looking at and maybe it's a blending of consciousness with sensation but he knows where to go. At first he kisses -- so gently it's almost a tease -- but the urge to drink grows and grows until he can't ignore it any longer. Like jumping into a cold pond on a hot day, there's a point at which he just can't turn back; he bares fangs and sinks them into the flesh beneath them.

Slowly, as blood begins to pool around the wound, he sips.

It's divine. And he thought this was good from a human perspective: in this body, with these senses, it's unbelievably erotic. It's the sensation he focuses on, trying to make sure it's the same way for Lestat.

The blood in his mouth is cool and rich. It's like drinking liquid chocolate port wine. Beneath his hands, he molds Lestat's body against his own like they're one and the same. Why did he wait? Why did he hesitate? With every swallow of blood, he sends images and thoughts of love and sensuality and satisfaction to his lover. He has no idea how he's doing it, but he knows it's working.

When did Gren learn to send images and thoughts? And why's he bothering to think about that. The brief sensation of pain from sharp teeth piercing skin is over and all he can do is melt against his lover's body. His fingers tangle in gold curls that should belong to him but don't today.

It's not easy focusing on the images and sending encouraging thoughts back to Gren.

He manages. Somehow.

Just remember not to lose yourself. Dead blood can drag a vampire down into death. But take. It tastes good, doesn't it? Cool and sweet and rich? And, oh hell, this feels good.

He presses his body further against Gren's body. Like he can't get enough contact.

Lestat's thoughts are distracting: he's focused on this act of drinking. Don't drink too much, don't lose yourself, but take, it tastes good. There's so much to remember, and yet he's confident he will. His partner's this confident all the time... except for after that attack by the Rider. His confidence is back now, though, and he's delighted to share a taste of that. It's almost the way he feels when he's on stage, although he's more removed from everything when he's up there, and he can think about that later. Right now is for this.

He takes another mouthful of blood, savors it, swallows. And one more: that's enough. It's not as much as Lestat usually takes and he knows it but he's also learned a trick or two from his lover and maybe they can do this again later on. Yes, he has learned a few things and he's proud of himself for it.

As he drags his own tongue across his fangs, he tastes more blood; it's what he uses to seal the wound on Lestat's neck. The buzz is decadent and beautiful, and that word takes on a whole new meaning to him now. Through these eyes, everything is beautiful. Everything has light and color and motion. If he heard everything in music before, he hears the music twice as loudly in this body.

Gazing into familiar blue eyes, he smiles: he's starting to feel more and more like Lestat and less and less like himself. But some things still hold true and stay the same.

"Hi."

He feels lightheaded and like he's swimming but completely heavy. He's lazy too. Grinning, he kisses his angel. Different body same word. It's so typical of him. Like it's not normal if he doesn't hear that one little word.

"Oh yes. It's definitely you inside that body. No one else says the word 'hi' quite like you do." And then he falls into fits of laughter.

He keeps laughing until finally he rolls onto his back on the bed. Even then he continues laughing. It must be several minutes, though he's sure it's not, before he stops and sighs. Then he closes his eyes and breathes. This body doesn't need to but he likes the old habit of doing so.

"You are unbelievable."

Opening his eyes, he looks over at Gren. "You're going to twist this on me but I'll say it anyways. You're beautiful."

"And I love you. I'll save it to twist later on." He pushes long dark hair away from Lestat's face, laughs, and lies back next to him. He was almost afraid of this: he makes a very good vampire. The whole concept is so seductive.

But there are things he likes about being human, too, and he stands by what he told Lestat long ago: he doesn't want to be a vampire, thank you very much. As fun as this is -- as sexy and seductive and wonderful as it is -- he thinks he likes himself better in his own body. He's in love with Lestat, but he doesn't want to be him.

Still, the taste of it is priceless.

"And I think you're beautiful. There. Now we can twist it on each other later on."

"Later on, hm?"

He laughs and rolls onto his side. His head rests on his hand. Yes, it's much easier thinking of this as his body. Until he gets his real body back.

It's too irresistible. He leans down and kisses the lips that are tempting him.

"You're a temptation no matter what body you're in. I want you."

He'll leave full interpretation up in the air.

"You're as insatiable as I am. Crazy vampire." Except tonight, his lover's not the vampire.

He is.

"I'll tell you what that was like for me if you tell me what it was like for you. We can compare notes." He's entirely sure he did the whole thing the right way, and he liked it. That's the only thing that frightens him: he liked it a lot.

"Were you afraid I was going to be like Louis? Moping around in this powerful form?" He's got his moments, for sure, but he's not that depressed all the time. "Because I'm not. I want to try flying."

"It is the most erotic experience. You forget, I've been through it before. And, you are reading my mind. That means it is your turn to tell me."

Then he blinks in surprise. Just to make sure he heard Gren right. Of course he never thought he'd be like Louis. Louis doesn't want to be a decent vampire and so he is not. Gren is actually trying things.

"You can't be powerful unless you want to be so. If you falter in your heart then you will fail and be powerless. That is how it works. Now, what is this about you wanting to try flying?"

"You heard me right. I want to try flying." He's got less than twenty-four hours now to try all the things he finds so amazing. "I want to do for you all the things you do for me. I want to cram a whole lifetime into this night."

That's not so unusual. He feels like that almost every night when he's with Lestat, but the tables are turned. "I want you to feel the same awe I feel when you do things like that. It's not wrong to want to share and to want to try, is it?"

He can read Lestat's thoughts as they go, but already he knows that the answer to his last question is a resounding no. Lestat's proud of him for doing all the things he's doing tonight. "I have so much love for you. I want to do everything for you. Everything I can, tonight and always."

"Then you'll have to wait until I'm dressed. Unlike you, I will freeze my ass off out there." He laughs and rolls off the bed. Grace still isn't his forte but at least he knows what balance is now.

"You really scattered them about." He makes a show of finding things. After all, he thinks this body is absolutely stunning. It deserves to be shown off. And, he's an actor. It's in his nature.

Placing everything on the bed, he smiles.

"You should come help me get dressed."

Lestat needs his help dressing about as much as an ant needs a computer, but he's happy to oblige: he knows that body his boyfriend's gotten himself into intimately and knows how to dress it.

"That's right, my puny human. I drank your blood, and now you're tired." He's teasing, of course, and pulls Lestat toward him for some much-wanted contact. This body loves that body as much as this man loves that man, and that's all there is to it. Warm tanned hands run over cool dead skin before he dresses the both of them.

"Now, come over and sit by me." He buttons his -- Lestat's -- shirt and looks in the mirror. He sees a blond-haired blue-eyed devil looking back at him: cocky, self-confident, imperious, full of mischief. It's contagious.

"Look over there, into the mirror. Tell me what you see." His hands with their strange glass-like fingernails brush through Lestat's (his) long black hair. With these hands, it's a whole different experience.

"I see a dark-haired angel with a flash of mischief in his blue eyes. He's confident and ready for anything. Of course, he's slightly more pale but that's the fault of the blond devil he's sitting next to. What a beautiful pair to behold." He smiles and looks over at Gren.

A cat perfectly pleased with his prize is what he looks like. He knows it and he's doing it on purpose.

"Now, I want you to talk me flying. I can admire myself for hours in your body or mine or both at the same time. But I want to go flying with you and since you are the only one with that power right now I have to wait for you. I am done being patient."

They stand, together; he takes Lestat's hand into his. There's a moment of wondering how in the world he's going to figure out how to fly; he's never done it before.

This body has, though. It will know how.

"That's not the first time tonight you've been done with being patient. Are you going to talk me through flying, or will I have to read your thoughts to figure it out?" There's a third option: Lestat won't tell him and won't think it and he'll have to figure it out all by himself.

"Puppies, you'll have to wait here." The dogs have been keeping their distance since midnight; clearly they can sense that something's not wrong but different. He tugs Lestat toward the door and because he can, unlocks it without touching it.

"Ha!" He can't help being proud of himself for that one. This is fun.

For someone who doesn't want to be a vampire, Gren makes a very good one. It's fascinating to watch. He smiles and shakes his head. Then he looks at his lover and...

...thinks of absolutely nothing. It took some time to learn how to block the thoughts of others. Even then those with greater skills than his still can get through his barriers. Gren doesn't have that skill yet.

And he already gave him the secret to all of his powers. Gren can figure it out from there.

He trusts him.

Which is why he just keeps smiling as he opens the door to lead him through the shadowy tunnel. He can't see well in this darkness. His lover can though. It's an interesting contrast.

At least he had the presence of mind to put his coat on his old body before they left. It's so curious to step out into the night air, surrounded by snow, and not be the least bit bothered by the cold. Oh, he feels it, but he doesn't care. It can't affect him.

And Lestat is being a brat and not helping at all, but that's all right. He only has to remember that this body knows how to fly. It knows how to move quickly -- at superhuman speeds -- and it knows how to keep another person perfectly safe while he figures out what to do. All he has to do, he's sure, is want to fly.

This requires a certain amount of focus; he shuts out all the surrounding sounds and voices and remembers how it felt when he was in his own body and was lifted into the air, flown up and above the beach to hover there. He's flush with sensation -- everything around him is so brilliant -- and he knows this is something he ought to try for himself first. He can't harm Lestat: there was a vow made that the body he's in doesn't get harmed and he's honor-bound to uphold that promise. It's curious that he cares less about his own body than he does about the fact that his lover's borrowed it for the day. Precious, precious cargo and he's responsible for it.

"Let me try this myself. I want to see if I can do it." There's still no help coming from his very own perfect brat, but he's got faith.

I want to fly. He would close his eyes, but he doesn't want to miss anything and so he doesn't, but he does focus on the goal of flight. He wants it. He wants it more than anything right now, and when Lestat does it he makes it look so effortless, and...

The night shifts: he's looking down at his own body from above. A slow smile spreads over his face.

This is fantastic.

He actually had expected Gren to try it without him first. That's just the way he is. Protect his lover first before anything else. If he couldn't do it then he would refuse to take him flying with him. And when he rises into the air, his smile grows. That hint he gave was perfectly intentional.

"I see that you can do it. Now come down here and take me with you."

It's so cold out here. And it will be colder still up in the air. They'll be perfectly exposed to the world. He's excited already. The sooner they get up there together the better.

"I certainly cannot join you up there. Come down here before I start showing you images of what I could make your body do while I'm in it." It's not much of a threat but he still has his excellent vampire memory. That hasn't faded to a human level just yet. And actually, it makes him want to think up images.

Maybe later.

"Let's go flying."

This reminds him of the time Lestat was transformed into a tiny order-barking doll: these curses where his form is affected tend to have the biggest effect on him. And while they might have switched bodies, they clearly haven't switched personalities.

He's never this demanding... but he could take advantage of this moment to be as demanding as his partner usually is. It would be so in keeping with this body.

Instead, he doesn't say anything but he does swoop down, scoop Lestat up into his arms, hold on tight, and take off again into the air. The whole thing almost leaves him giddy, but he remembers that it's a good idea to listen in on Lestat's thoughts. He's cold, but not too cold. They won't stay up here in the air for too long.

Being scooped into someone's arms isn't a feeling he's particularly used to but he laughs anyways. Gren is enjoying this and so is he. And this dizzy feeling of being lifted into the air is so addicting.

Laughing again, he looks down at the world below. The cold air on his skin is invigorating and his human eyes try to take in everything at once.

"So this is what you see when I take you flying. I never knew. It's not like seeing it through the eyes of a vampire but it is still so beautiful. Look at it all!" As if Gren can't see it for himself. "Trees and light of the City and water far beyond and everything." His eyes just can't get it all in. And to think, he's actually used to seeing these things.

"That's what I see, and that's how I see it." For his part, he marvels over the way everything's so radiant and brilliant and bright and light even though it's dark out, and he feels like he could stay out here -- up here -- for hours, but he doesn't want Lestat to get cold.

They can stay a little while longer. But while his partner's a captive audience, as it were, he's going to take advantage of things. First, suspended up here in the air over the temple, he gives Lestat a serious kiss. One completely unhindered by gravity: it's a new sensation.

"So tell me. When you make another vampire, is there some... training period where you teach these things? I know you didn't have that luxury." He also doesn't know exactly how many people Lestat's turned in his centuries and he doesn't really want to know the answer to that question. "I know you had to figure it all out by yourself. But it seems like it would be awfully nice if it came with an instruction manual."

That concept makes him laugh: he's joking... mostly. And he won't be a vampire for very long either; certainly not long enough to need to learn the ropes. A little taste of it is all he needs.

He's pretty sure about that.

An instruction manual? Please.

"There is no training period that I know of. Masters are generally supposed to stay with their fledglings but the only one that I have with any of these powers is David. None of the others are old enough to have them. Gabrielle and Louis are closest to my age but they have yet to live long enough and even then Louis has no desire to be a proper vampire. As for David, I was brought here before I could do much in the way of teaching with him."

That's as complete an answer as he can provide. He honestly doesn't know the answer. He's never experienced it and was forced to learn the powers he has on his own. The blood he drank from Akasha and Marius gave him those powers. He's not old enough to have them.

"And I think you should kiss me again as we hang here in the air. I loved the one before and I want another."

He grins.

He hasn't stopped listening to his partner's thoughts and now he knows: if he was made into a vampire by Lestat he would have these kinds of powers. He wouldn't have to wait centuries and centuries and that seals the deal: it's too much power. Too much for him. He'll go back to being himself and admiring things in his lover, and that will be perfectly satisfactory. He doesn't need to be the one to fly as long as Lestat flies with him; he doesn't need to drink blood as long as Lestat drinks his.

It's simple and it's perfect the way it is on a normal night: he loves Lestat in his own imperfect human way and he'll keep it to that: being as powerful as his partner might destroy the delicate balance of what they have, and he craves what they've got. None of that means he won't take complete advantage of tonight, though.

"Because you asked so nicely." He's filled with an exhibitionist's utter recklessness; he directs long legs around his waist and kisses him, right up here in the sky, and he doesn't care who sees them. Of course he doesn't care. Why would he? A little public seduction is an intensely beautiful thing.

When the kiss is over, though, he lowers them to the ground. Lestat's chilled, and he doesn't want to be the one winding up with the cold come tomorrow night. He's acutely aware of the passage of time, and at the same time doesn't care a bit about it.

But he knows he wants to savor being in this body for the time remaining. A few hours till dawn and from what he's seen in his partner, the rising sun will tug at him like water to a drowning man and he'll be unable to resist sleep.

He happily obeys the direction of his long legs and locks them there. Gren can just carry him all the way back.

And I know you heard that.

So there.

Once on the ground, he locks their lips together again. His lover could so easily unlatch him if that is his wish but he's seriously hoping he doesn't. This position is rather nice.

Let's go back. I'll seduce you the rest of the night and then we can sleep.

Really, he doesn't care who might see them: he carries Lestat back like this all the way. Let people notice; let them talk. Who cares? What does it matter?

They've got the rest of the night to look forward to, after all.

Log; Complete

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

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