Archive of Our Own ^beta

Waking up to his first day in Rome had been heavier than he once dreamed of. It was one of those nights Louis felt strangely empty, his eyes carrying Claudia as much as his thoughts did. And he wondered what letters he could have once gotten of her travels – of what she would have thought, what she would have scoffed at and hated. It was everywhere. She was everywhere. Yet it all felt like it was somewhere between several months ago and yesterday. The world came upon him quicker than he had expected, but he had been trying to shift his jagged feelings into peace in choosing to live a life of love with Armand. Every day of his future was revenge for all they did, he survived his very own murder attempt. Every day of his future with Armand was all he had. 

But he was still haunted, still Louis de Pointe Du Lac. But this time instead of Paris, it was the Roman walkways grazing his shoes as he walked past. The streets of Paris had faded into the backroads of France to the road to Rome in Italy. Now it was their third night in their quarters, four nights before they ride towards Southern Italy to catch the ship which would take them to Tunisia. Soon enough, in a month if all went well they’d be in Egypt. 

After his experience of being chained to the only vampires he met, it was nice to be able to wander in an off-set comfort. Louis took the opportunity to ask about Armand’s travels, to learn about where they were going and what it had meant to Armand. That was the scene scape that let Louis relax a little. He could relax in the stories of the past, of what Armand knew and what he would share. Breaking into Parisian museums turned into  breaking into libraries, monuments, temples, and mausoleums. Though for every singular place they got inside, there were thousands of places they passed by in their lifetimes. 

And while Louis found it more satisfying to do more brutal hunts alone, it was nice to know he needn’t be subjected as an audience. Especially to brutality if the idea of going out wasn’t appetizing. Armand accepted him, and scurried off to his prey. A stark contrast to Lestat’s judgmental practices. While Lestat would sit and call Louis hypocritical in many manors, Armand offered but never pushed too hard. Louis just had a limit, certain screams reminding him of Claudia— or the neighbors kid’s yells when he was young. 

Yet there was more joy to be found in a new place. Armand made gentle chides throughout their days. 

“I enjoy seeing you hunt in these new places. The flora in these nights with you is very picturesque.” Armand says one evening while Louis smokes at a cafe. 

And another night, as he’s preparing to leave for the hunt. “Will you come with me, tonight?” 

The extended hand was a place Louis often found his space to relax. He wasn’t a stranger to compromises in eating people over animals. They tasted much better than most animals and there was a cruel beauty in it that was ever magical in the right light. 

Yet, this time it felt as though Louis was able to make his choice. And while there were plenty of nights where he stayed in, or when he ate out only every few nights where it was content. Armand never resented or slighted Louis for his denial, and it allowed a few hours of distance to a duo who were constantly revolving around each other. 

But Louis still had his own, brutal urges, that Armand was more than happy to take up if Louis wanted to play human. 

——

The stars are uniquely dim tonight, the full moon outshining everything else. It’s one of those nights when engaging in the cycle of being a predator to the human kind doesn’t sparkle like magic. Not quite like it can when Louis loses himself. Or forces himself to get lost. It’s been over a year, maybe almost two years now. Louis can’t manage to keep count, but he feels his mind focusing on the sound of the clock counting each second as the hours pass. Until it is eventually, much too late. And a part of him, the part that Armand asks from him, gets pissed off. Armand hasn’t gotten back yet, but when he does Louis wants to see Arun. He grabs his nail files and pack of cigs.

He's smoking on the porch when Armand prances home. Months ago, they had a light hearted in-joke of it looking like Armand was returning from a faraway bloody affair. All while the small amount of people that roamed this street would glance at it and see evidence of nothing. Louis was letting his thoughts be heard. A simple phrase: Come to me. 

Louis doesn’t know Armand hears it like he’s the hair standing up on an arm. The vampire  forgets he once said the same phrase to Louis. Flashes of Lestat flick past. But he just continues. Walking home like a soul possessed. Nothing could be wrong if he could be Louis’s. Which must have been apart of the problem of Claudia; she had Lestat all over her. Meanwhile Armand felt Lestat wash off him with every hour he had with Louis. 

Louis had avoided raising any red flags to potential vampires in the city, it was only tonight he felt compelled for him while gone. So he wasn’t one to casually pick up the thoughts Armand felt in the distance. Him and Armand still trained, still made progress on his power together. The silence that was born out of Claudia and Madeline’s death was haunting. Any noise that took their place couldn’t compare to what once had been. The fledglings he had once seen. Loved. Cared for. It filled him much more than the air in his body. 

He feels Louis’s heat before he reaches the same floor. They smash into one other as Armand enters the room, his nose to the left of Louis’ as they kiss. He wants to bear his neck to Louis but he’s bending down to his shape. He can’t help but lightly recoil, flinching as Louis grips his shirt and jacket with his left hand, right over Armand’s rib cage. A forlorn noise rings into Louis’ mouth where their lips meet as his skin gains its first scratches of the night, a fragment from a teaching long ago to moan into the mouth of men who he wanted to hurt him. Armand can feel Louis playing it easy, can feel the old pains of old nights before he almost lost him. The guilt runs through him. He wanted to be on Louis’ proverbial medical table, to be at his mercy and to go through what he had once felt decades ago but by someone who just as much deserved to take him. 

Louis’s right hand goes down to Armand’s pants. As he starts fiddling with his buttons and zipper, Armand is trying to shake off his coat, making Louis release his grip to bring both hands to Armand’s pants. He pulls away from the kiss as he starts slowly lowering himself so he can drop Armand’s pants. But the whole time, he’s looking up, kissing the middle of his stomach over his shirt. In a second that feels all too quick, Louis is a step away from Armand— who’s flush against the wall —and looking at him with a careful eye. 

“Go get ready, mon cheri.” Louis stares at him like he’s a human to drain, his American accent coming out in every syllable. 

Armand takes a moment to process this before quickly soaring to the master bedroom. The twin bedroom kept their coffins, while the larger room was meant to host their hotter nights. He doesn’t need to hear the command twice. This is something he’s done hundreds of times.

Louis heads off to the closet. He doesn’t have the tools Armand usually includes in their back and forth; the whip Armand once had ended up buried in France, Louis promising they could get a new one or go back to search. But for now, the rope would do. Armand requested they try new techniques before everything had gone dark;now Louis was drawn towards the comment. In those weeks spent alone before killing the coven, he had stolen many things that would help him in his future. Yet was only the knot tying book that provided help now. He had learned a thing or two in his past, but there were only two he really found desire for. 

Louis walks into the bedroom, a knife in his pocket and wrapped-up rope in his hands. The sight is Armand on the bed, his pants off and shirt thrown to the ground. For a moment he realizes he’s lost the will to shed his clothes, to let Armand see his skin the same way. He lets out a light chuckle, observing his Arun splayed with fingernail clippers on the bed instead of the side drawer where he left it. Armand with one of his hands behind his back as he laid on the bed. Though Louis couldn’t see where his hand was, he knew. 

The younger vampire jumps on him, uncaring if the bed breaks or they get a complaint for the 4 A.M. noise. Louis instead studies his face twisting lightly as he grabs the pinned man’s arm and takes it from behind him to turn his head on the pillows. Armand looks at him with a humming-bird shyness. Louis kisses him, his closed mouth meeting Armand’s already parting lips. 

Louis lifts up from the kiss, leaning over him just above his face. “Sit up.” 

“Yes Maître.”

Louis sits on his hips, straddling his sides as Armand rises. He takes the rope and starts the handcuff knot. He makes sure to position Armand’s wrists behind his back, double checking to see there’s barely half inch of wiggle room. He has a deadly focus on each movement as he feelsfelt Armand’s stomach against his pelvis. It takes focus to fit another knot around Armand’s neck, to ignore the heat in his gut begging him to just rut into Armand and have him take it like he’s heard him beg. To make sure the rope is tight but not too tight. Maybe in the future entanglements they could get more intense with it; for now Louis wants to make sure they didn’t break the rope. 

So Louis crawls to Armand’s back, visualizing the next step as he prepared. Each movement matters to it actually working. Looping and pulling through the small gap between Armand’s neck and the rope collar, he goes back to the loose knot that constrains Armand’s hands and aimes the connecting rope through the jumble of loose back and forth sections of the rope.  He ties the loop to keep it secure before tightening the wrists. 

Louis leans away, sitting upright and looking at it. He can see Armand’s chin parallel to his left shoulder as he attempts to look back at Louis’ work. The free vampire brings his hand down to the middle of the handcuffs, and pushes hard. 

Armand’s chin shoots up, the rope now digging into the front of his neck hard, the air only reaching his open mouth if he keeps looking up. Louis eyes the spot on his neck moving as the tied up man swallows. He slowly loosens his pressure on the rope. . “What do you think of this, Arun?” 

“Thank you, Maître.” 

“For what?” Louis heart skips a beat at the reaction. He smiles, and slides his legs off the bed. 

“Making me in the image you desire, Maître.”  For a moment Louis wonders how true those words are, and then he catches Armand’s eyes that hold the weight of the world.  

Louis's feet hit the ground and he walks around to Armand’s front. Louis looks down at him for a moment, contemplating his next decision before he can’t make another one. But there’s one really good option he can’t let up. 

“And are you willing, to see fit to my desires?” Louis asks, looking straight into Armand’s eyes. They’re both well aware that either of them could get out of a simple restraint like this easily. The rope certainly doesn’t look high quality. But this was their agreement, Armand was tasked with relaxing while Louis was tasked with taking. Though Armand often wasn’t relaxed in these scenarios, his scene suggestions later often reflected his desire for the uncomfortable. So Louis drew discomfort. 

“Yes, Maître.” Armand’s words almost come out like pleading. His jaw more relaxed than his usual, the soft change to his tone he heard more of after France.

“Flip over, I’ll take you at the edge of the bed.” 

Armand is still for a moment before rolling over. It was something he found increasingly demeaning while Louis found it an apt position for their situation. Louis of course, wanted to use his contraption. But for now, he got to put his hands on his lover’s ass. 

Louis went to the bedside drawer, grabbed their lube and spread it across his fingers til it came out even. Louis placed a gentle kiss on Armand’s outer hip before letting himself wonder. He had cut the nails needed for this on both hands, but had left a few sharp just in case. It made it nice to grab at him with a certain pressure, to see blood he recently drank leak out from his skin. Louis uses his palms to give himself room, licking a stripe up just under Armand’s hole before bringing his mouth to him fully. Louis sticks his tongue inside of him, swirling it around his walls. 

Armand’s breathing picks up, the rush of his warm body compared to the other’s coldness inflamed his lust. He grinds his hips into the mattress with the movements pressed forward. Louis can hear Armand's jaw clenchin and thoughts roaming, wishing Louis was Kronos to his Hestia, yearning to be eaten whole. Louis continues using his tongue, adding a finger along with it. He pushes in and out with his wrist, retreating his head as he added a second finger. The shallow movements of his tongue allow for something a bit farther with his fingers. 

Louis still had time to gain as much sexual experience as Armand; he sometimes felt all too aware that their first 33 years were very different from one another. And while they both had reasons to be stunted, Louis still felt a lack of experience with those who had his proclivities.  But he was learning things Lestat wouldn’t have given him the opportunity to learn. In his inexperience, there came a confidence in learning something for the first time with another. He had heard others call it playing the man. Though to Louis it felt more like playing with Man. The way Church said God could feel when looking down on them all, like being in control of all pleasure and pain. 

Louis adds another finger, listening closely as Armand’s vocal chords sing their own muffled whines while the seconds turned into minutes. Louis pumps his hand in time with the motions Armand’s hips were making, eyes trained on his fingers disappearing within the other man. Slowly his fingers move in and out more and more smoothly. Louis tugs on one of Armand’s hands towards him, slowly pushing his head from in the sheets to lifting above the blankets.  Louis stares, before stepping back  to unbuckle his pants, pushing the articles of clothing down and letting them fall. He opens the drawer once more grabbing the lube, taking a moment to drink in the sight of Armand. He slicks his hands and wrapped his hand around his penis, lathering it properly. He’s not trying to be close to dry sex tonight. Even better, there's blood running down Armand’s left leg from how he cut him earlier. He looked stunning; splayed on the bed

. 

Louis approaches him once more. Pushing back in with two fingers before replacing it with the head of his dick. Louis shudders at the feeling, having waited to touch himself till he could be inside his love. He sinks quickly, persevering forward even when it wasn’t an easy task. He’s been quite gentle, aside from his rope contraption, so watching his body twitch and shutter in response is like coming home after the long night of working. 

This continued as Louis got through breaking Armand in with two more pumps. Louis shutters out a moan with the last one, brain hitting its limit and body draping over his back. Louis kisses his lover’s shoulder blade. 

“Arun, Arun, Arun, you look so handsome.” Louis hummed against his skin. Pressing gentle kisses over his back as he sinks himself to his hilt. 

Armand shifts laying his cheek on the mattress, “I love you, Louis.”

Louis takes himself out of Armand completely. He smiles as he hears the sharp exhale from Armand. “What was that, Arun?”

Armand swallows, “Thank you, Maître.” 

Louis stands back straight and lines himself back up. He sinks himself back in as quick as he can manage. Attempting a brutal reward for his love: this was it, this forever. Getting Armand in whatever way the man would give himself, and Armand was willing to give a lot. Or come off like he would. Losing his coven, letting them all die. Louis sets a rapid pace, grabbing a hold of Armand’s hands and pulling back ever so lightly. 

“Merci, mon cheri. Thank you.”

Hearing the quiet sounds coming out of Armand’s open mouth gets him more excited. Hoping to drill more out of him, he quickly loses reason as the in and out movements drive his lust farther. Chasing the feeling fucking Armand gives him.  Watching the man’s expression, the micro twitches in response to his throat being pressed further and further on. He hears Armand’s heart beat at a quick pace, and his mind racing towards his climax. Louis tries to stay focused, yet can only hear Armand’s thoughts on it all.  The–; Yes! No, wait— to the left again. And see Armand’s toes curling. 

Louis starts making more poignant thrusts as he feels the other shuttering below him. The feelings overwhelm him as he feels it coil tight in him and smell his lover. There’s something, from the blood running down his leg to the way Armand’s was starting to still. 

Armand gasps. Louis yanks the handcuffs down and brings his chest to meet his back, feeling his fangs lowering while lost in his heat. He lunged his teeth forward and into the base of his neck and shoulder. The blood entering his mouth and system. Armand yelped with the bite. He hadn’t done something like this before. Not where he could feel the blood enter his mouth, the euphoria of fresh blood entering his system mixed with his sexual heat. Louis drinks as he feels the shocks of orgasm. Armand had already felt spent, his mind racing, but now being drained it felt all consuming. Like a vacuum trying to take away his heart. Drain me. Kill me. Drain me. Louis is delirious with how much he wanted him, feeling the come down from his high of Armand’s hole surrounding his cock. 

He detaches his fangs, letting go of his tension and laying on top of Armand, not yet pulling his cock out of him. When he starts to get off, Armand can almost trick himself into being scared he’s gonna go again. But Louis pulls out of him, nudging Armand to roll onto his back. He crawls up and kisses his mouth before letting himself fall to Armand’s side. Still catching his breath while heaving. 

“Let’s go to our coffin, Arun. We can clean up later.” Louis tells, staring at him as they lay. 

Armand nods his head, humming. “Let’s.” 

After a minute, the two are walking through the hall back to their coffins. Louis unlocks the door and locks it once they get in. Setting it on the desk by the door. Louis turns, takes a few steps to Armand and wraps his lover in a hug. 

“I love you, Louis.” Armand doesn’t put much power into pushing the words out of his diaphragm. Apart of him recognizes it as timid, the other feels mean seeing him vulnerable and seeing the word weak. But his thoughts toppled over themselves as he leans his head on his lover’s shoulder. Feeling Armand’s skin, his body, his rhythm and space. It felt like a blessing to be with someone he could be weak with. As if it was all safe here in Rome, and Louis’s darker thoughts wouldn’t reach him as much when he was drowning in love. 

“I love you, Armand.” Louis leans back, and instead aims for Armand’s lips. It almost feels like the world stops when they’re together. And after every tragic thing, he thinks having this to cover all the bad felt beautiful. Like it was all that mattered. Even if he couldn’t always divert or change Louis streams of consciousnesses. Armand had sacrificed it all for him, and Louis had to get away from everything before. Louis takes a breath, “I wanna sleep in your coffin tonight.”

“Yes, Maître.” Armand detaches from Louis temporarily, taking his first step in the coffin. “Do you want to visit the Pantheon tomorrow night? I visited it the first time I visited the city.” 

Louis hummed. Remembering a lifetime of stepping into a coffin with only two others before his step. “Sure, it’s gotta look special in the moonlight.”

Louis hadn’t shared a coffin with him to rest in. The few times they had it was night time and they were kissing while feeling each other. While he knew he needed space, they had traveled many long nights. They had many long conversations. They had even their nights of love. He knew nothing would ever feel quite right again, not in a world without her. But there was infinite amount of things they could face in the future. And Louis felt it best— safest and comfortable with Armand. Armand would not suffocate him, he saw to to any request or wish. Call it the last nail in his coffin, he was locked in.