By LP
[EMAIL PROTECTED] (mailto:[EMAIL PROTECTED])
Disclaimers, disclaimers: The characters mentioned herein were created by
Anne Rice, and later marketed and abused, turning them into slaves rather than
friendly nightly visitors. All hail America. I have hereby liberated them for
a few moments because I'm just not talented enough to create my own
characters in a universe of my own. So here I am, and here is the story. The
background of the story... jeez. Okay. Bunches of people I know have been
screaming
at me to write a PWP. Cecilia wanted a Lestat/Santino story, so this is *a*
Lestat/Santino story, but not *the* Lestat/Santino story. Claudel wanted a
story with two vampires doing the vampire wild thing, and Heather: The Black
Rose did a picture for us Spec writers to write a Spec to, ignoring, of
course,
the fact that she too should write a Spec to the picture since she too is a
Spec writer. Are you following still? Oh, and Cindy just wanted me to write.
*g* So. I just went and combined all of these things by sheer chance and
luck, and here I am, writing this disclaimer. Sheesh. NC-17. Hope that
catches
everyone's attention. *Please* feedback me. I thrive on feedback. And I've
been known to write more just because somebody wrote to me and said that they
liked and want more. Anyhoo... On with the story...
Santino.
Lestat hadn't seen him since they had parted from Night Island. No words, no
thoughts, no visits. No letters or e-mails or telephone calls or even a
postcard. Nothing. He may as well have been killed when Akasha wiped out the
vampiric community when she rose over a decade ago, for all Lestat was
concerned.
There had been no glimmer of recognition when Lestat had walked through the
doors of the Sonoma compound with Akasha. Not a word spoken after her events,
and all Lestat had of him to remember those horrific days had been memories
from Jesse and Khayman and Marius.
So Santino hadn't felt it necessary to renew their acquaintance. Fine.
Lestat had Louis, and Armand, and Marius, and Gabrielle... Only Gabrielle had
disappeared shortly after Lestat had left to fetch Louis from New Orleans, and
vanished completely, she had. Marius had finally lost his temper with Lestat,
and they no longer spoke to one another; Armand had disappeared someplace,
presumably with Daniel and Night Island was now dark rather than a shining
beacon in the middle of the blackness. David had come into his life, only to
disappear shortly thereafter, breaking out on his own to explore his new
existence by himself. And Louis... Louis was someplace in the world. Of that
Lestat
was certain.
The wind was powerful, whipping his hair frenetically about as two forces
collided where he sat, at the edge of a cliff. Winds skimming the black ocean
beneath him to the land pushed against those winds tracing the hills and lines
of the earth in a desperate attempt to find the empty void above the ocean
where they could play without disruption. Where he sat these two forces were
met, buffeting against him harmlessly, lifting his hair and trying to carry
it away. Would that he could follow forever...
Behind him, someone approached. Nothing could be heard above the crashing
surface of the sea, but the unmistakable power of another was close. What did
he want? Fifteen years of ignoring him and now he decides it is time for a
visit!
"Why are you here?" Lestat's voice would have been surly if it was possible
for a vampire's voice to be so.
"A visit," came the response, a breath of dark satin, unconsciously
seductive as it cut through the howling wind and wrapped around his body and
mind.
Chills encased his spine, took control of his body, and all the heat rushed to
his limbs as he felt the body crouch down behind him, not touching, only
threatening... teasing. "Why are you here?"
"The view, the sound, the solitude. Take your choice." Don't look at him.
Don't. Don't.
"Oh?"
Lestat heard the amused inflections and could picture one finely sculpted,
black eyebrow rising, the ever sarcastic smile growing just a bit bigger...
"You mean you weren't sitting here, thinking of challenging the morning sun
once again?" He tensed as he felt a cold finger trail down his bared spine to
the small of his back, the sensation going straight into the heart of his
body and lingering there. "Just to see if you could?"
"What do you want, Santino?" he asked. Go away. Go away. Go away. Santino
folded himself down to the earth, legs underneath him, but still splayed on
either side of Lestat's hips. He leaned in close, molding chest to back for a
brief moment as he settled, then pulled back so that the cold air swirled
between them once more.
"What do I want? Interesting question." Santino's breath tickled Lestat's
ear and suddenly a hand was moving his flying hair to his left side, and the
breath was now on his right ear, warm and moist, sending shivers through him.
"I want silver bullion. That sounds nice right now."
Lestat choked on a bit of laughter, trying not to feel the anticipation of
what Santino might do next, which part of Lestat's body would next be
subjected to his attentions. Santino took advantage of the small fracture in
Lestat's
wall, breathing out deeply, teasing the small loose hairs behind his ear.
With a small nuzzle he breathed in Lestat's scent, an invisible marker to the
participants. Bringing his hands up to Lestat's shoulders he began a rhythmic
squeezing, loosening knotted and tensed muscles. A small feather kiss to the
nape of his neck and Lestat leaned closer to him.
"And what about you Lestat? What do you want? Do you want me to stop,
Lestat?"
A low moan was the only response Santino heard, causing him to chuckle as he
continued to manipulate Lestat's muscles, working both his hands and mouth
down Lestat's spine. Time passed and he became more relaxed, swaying to the
press and clench and pressure of Santino's hands. Santino raised himself up as
he massaged Lestat lower back, and leaned into the blond man once again,
dominating him.
"Take your time deciding, of course," he whispered into an ear.
The mocking cadences in his voice roused Lestat to action, twisting him
around, and he pushed Santino backwards so he lay supine on the ground. In an
instant Lestat lay over him, bracing himself on his arms as they devoured each
others' mouths. The subtle games for domination began again between them.
Santino began by trying for mastery of Lestat's body while he was held prone
by
his own arms. He moved lower, nipping with sharp teeth at Lestat's pectoral,
drawing two dark drops of blood which he quickly licked away. He laved
Lestat's chest with his tongue, tracing muscles, tweaking the hypersensitive
nubs
as Lestat's frame shuddered with the sensations.
Bending his head Santino bit right *there* just to the side of Lestat's
navel, and when Lestat arched, the muscles of his arms bunching and straining
in
the moonlight, Santino dug his nails deeply into his shoulders, cutting ten
burning trails as he dragged his hands down Lestat's back. A shout echoed into
the night, the voice of pleasure and torment.
"Enjoying yourself?" Lestat gritted out between pants.
"Immensely," Santino replied immediately. "Have you forgotten already how to
play rough, Lestat? Perhaps it was trained out of you... Armand perhaps? He
never did like it hard." In a surprising move Lestat grappled Santino with
his legs and flipped them twice, landing Santino once more on his back,
slightly stunned, with Lestat kneeling over him, a knee on either side of his
chest.
"Nice try. But I know you never bedded Armand." Lestat grabbed a fistful of
Santino's shirt and pulled, the fabric tearing easily along the seams with
his strength. He trailed a finger slowly down the center of Santino's chest.
When Santino attempted to move Lestat struck with blinding speed, trapping
both
of Santino's hands in one of his own. "Guess who isn't a fledgling anymore,"
he said when he felt Santino tense somewhat at the ensnarement. "I haven't."
His hand gave a quick swipe across Santino's right side, drawing blood.
Santino sucked in a deep breath and Lestat watched as his eyes dilated,
bringing
his fingers to Santino's lips to clean.
Still holding Santino prone Lestat began his assault of bites, nips and
scratches, remembering every old way that made Santino arch his back seeking
more
of the pain/pleasure, finding a few more. He lapped spilled blood from the
tiny wounds he had created, and reveled in every tensing of the hands and arms
still caught in his grasp. Then without warning Santino was free and they
were wrestling once more, rolling over the grassy ground. Lestat paused for a
moment when he managed to pin Santino's shoulders down.
"Well, if that didn't prove it, nothing will," Lestat said when Santino
flipped them over.
"Prove what?" he asked as he bit down hard on Lestat's arm, scoring a vein
which bled just long enough for Santino to gain a swallow of thick, overly
rich blood.
"You and Eric being lovers," Lestat replied, just as Santino was about to
cut another incision centimeters away from his nipple. Santino froze and
looked
at Lestat.
"What??" he asked, confusion marring his features.
"Eric is that forgettable? No wonder you are here with me."
"Lestat, where in seven Hells did you come up with that idea!"
Lestat laughed, throwing back his head, feeling a weight lift for the first
time since Santino had arrived.
"Khayman."
Santino looked even more confused, causing Lestat to laugh even harder, his
uncontrollable howling carrying into the night, joining with the wind.
"And where did he get that idea?"
Santino was oblivious to the fact that his defense was now wide open, and
Lestat took advantage, rolling them over and moving his mouth down the line of
chest hair which died out only to reappear, arrowing into Santino's jeans. He
trailed his tongue in circles around his navel, his mouth immediately
seizing the hand that tried to gain his attention once again. He bit deeply
into
the arteries running along the muscle sheathed bones of Santino's wrist. One
swallow, two. Delicious. He could taste pleasure and pain and worry and
arousal. Affection and carnal hunger vied with concern and annoyance for
dominance.
"Oh, stop worrying. Only four of us know." Santino's other arm came up fast,
grasping Lestat's head, making him feel the seriousness involved.
"Lestat, if this ever gets out..."
"Relax. If it hasn't gone in a book by now--"
"At all, Lestat..."
"What are yo... Mon Dieu. Maharet doesn't know!" Lestat stopped what he was
doing to see the confirmation written into Santino's features.
"She's been busy ever since Mekare came back. Can you imagine what she might
do if she found out I've been playing with her "beloved" Eric? She's not as
nice as she seems." Lestat nodded and went back to his task, speeding up his
progress, which happened to be unbuttoning Santino's pants. The small amounts
of powerful blood he had already swallowed, the heavy scent of blood in the
air surrounding them, the thoughts of events to come, had caused a healthy
erection to grow on Santino. Lestat pulled the jeans down Santino's legs to
his knees, nuzzling at the bushy, masculine hair and crotch before him.
"Remember when Gabrielle, Jesse and Maharet went into the city..." A lick
and nip. Bite to the hip. "Eric had been gone for a few days..." Lestat paused
to go down on the shaft standing at attention, mouthing it for a few moments
before continuing. "You went hunting..." Lestat took one of the malleable
sacs into his mouth and then released it, taut and glistening. "And Khayman is
awfully curious." He looked up, smiling wickedly and saw Santino knock his
head against the ground. Lestat prepared himself, and as he heard Santino's
muttered "Christ" he dove in for his target, latching onto Santino's leg at
the
juncture, instinctively finding and biting deeply into the artery hidden so
well behind the flesh, at the same time raking his nails down Santino's sides.
The result was a breathless and surprised shout from the Italian beneath
him, not expecting to need his voice again so quickly after having just used
it.
Hot, hot blood came spurting into Lestat's mouth in fountain gushes, filling
his mouth again before he could swallow. Yes. This was why Santino enjoyed
his time with Lestat. Lestat had never had any shame when it came to exploring
another's body, finding ways to pleasure it... to take his pleasure from the
body. And as a vampire he brought his mortal experiences with him, daring
his lovers to challenge his style. To complain. Santino never did either,
giving him the level of brutality he craved and submitting gracefully to the
gentleness he was prone to. Lestat felt Santino riding the waves of pleasure
and
pain; this wasn't the utter lack of pain when someone drank from the throat,
and it wasn't the agony of blood being drawn from the wrist, but a
combination of the two.
After several swallows Lestat cut off the blood flow with his tongue, and
felt the wound heal. He slowly cleaned away the blood remaining on the inside
of Santino's leg, and while he re-fastened the jeans he moved mouth and tongue
back up the broad rib-cage , smearing some of the trails left by the blood
his nails uncovered earlier. When he reached Santino's mouth they fell upon
one another again, tongues warring, swiping against each other, breathing only
with air stolen in quick gasps without breaking apart.
"What do you want, Lestat?" Santino's face was only inches away, his voice a
whisper of breath. Lestat forced his eyes away from Santino's, tearing the
connection that could happen. Santino had a remarkable ability to read a
person's soul, their innermost, most private thoughts when allowed to look
into
someone's eyes for too long. It was how he managed to keep his coven together
for so long, that unnatural ability to know exactly what someone was thinking.
And perfectly unfair since Santino himself couldn't be read.
Lestat pulled back and immediately one of Santino's hands was holding him in
place, refusing to let him go further.
"What do you want Lestat? Hmm?" Santino's voice was both serious and
mocking, daring Lestat to answer, daring him not to. Santino trailed his hands
over
Lestat's shoulders, slowly down his chest, dragging his nails lower with
increasing pressure. The muscles of Lestat's chest fluttered with the
unfamiliar
contact. Their eyes locked again and this time Lestat couldn't look away.
"Who is it you want, Lestat?" Santino surged up, and Lestat landed on his back
with an "oomph" of breath. He scowled in annoyance at the smug black haired
vampire.
"I want Louis."
"Then why are you here?" Lestat rolled them again so he was on top.
"Because Louis is in France somewhere." Santino lay sprawled beneath Lestat,
breathing easily and his right hand glided up, pulling him down with a
strength that surprised Lestat. Santino nuzzled the golden neck before he
gently
broke the skin. Lestat's body froze at that first bite before it molded with
the other's body. Santino's arms moved to hold Lestat and they shifted against
one another, Santino moving to lie over Lestat. Lestat fell into the void
Santino offered him for a small period of time, where he had no need to think
about anything except the rhythmic contracting muscles he felt as Santino
swallowed mouthful after mouthful of his blood. It was a peaceful sensation,
like floating in the air but in a wholly different way. Ecstacy to be like
this
with another after so long.
Santino was talking again now, whispering something in his ear, and the
sensation was vanishing like a dream imagined. The wind began to pick up once
again and Santino fell silent, letting each of them drift in their thoughts.
"Louis is in New Orleans searching for you," Santino said, speaking quietly.
Lestat's head came up sharply.
"What?" Santino's eyes were narrowed as he gazed out over the black ocean.
"He's just about to fall asleep... he wonders how long you will be away...
upset at not finding you, but neither is he surprised that you are not in the
city." Santino shook his head. "I don't understand-- he's not even
considering that you might have gone underground again. Well, yes. At any
rate, Louis
is back in New Orleans. And I should be leaving. Some of us still need
shelter." Santino stood and gathered a jacket which had been cast off before
he'd
sat down with Lestat. Lestat watched as he shrugged into it and came back,
bending down and kissing his mouth voraciously. "Don't be such a stranger this
time."
"Me? You are the one who hasn't spoken to me since I rose!"
"Lestat," Santino's voice was weary and was the tone of someone explaining
something to a child, "the moment you walked through that door with Akasha and
saw me, you eyed me as though I were the enemy. At Night Island your mood
wasn't any more receptive, and then you jetted off after Louis, and then you
decided it was time to go globe-trotting. So when exactly was I supposed to
catch up with you and renew acquaintance under friendly circumstances? For all
I
knew, you decided Marius' story against me was better than my story against
him, and you were no longer my friend. Obviously you didn't put everything
in your book." He said the last with a smile. "Thank you for that by the way."
Lestat smiled back. "I wonder which of us Marius would be more mad with." A
pause and then Lestat began laughing. "First Marius, now Maharet. Who am I
going to have to protect your little secrets from next?" Santino shrugged and
smiled. As he turned to walk away Lestat called his attention once more.
"Santino, can you fly yet?"
Santino turned back, his face inscrutable once more. "I don't know. I've
never tried."
"For the love of heaven, why not?" A grin grew on Santino's face.
"I like the feel of Eric carrying me." Lestat laughed and turned away to
face the ocean again. It was dark, and endless and violent as it waited for
the
approaching dawn. Lestat turned to look at the eastern sky. So Louis was in
New Orleans looking for him. Well, it was time to go home then.
The End, La Fin...
(http://www.tc.umn.edu/~pres0049/Storypage.html)
**************Ideas to please picky eaters. Watch video on AOL Living.
(http://living.aol.com/video/how-to-please-your-picky-eater/rachel-campos-duffy/
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